Secret Dreams
by Seni
Summary: Serena gets caught dreaming about a certain blue eyed someone. Read and review, please!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own Sailor Moon. Take that!

Serena strutted into the Crown Arcade after yet another detention session with Mrs. Haruna vaguely mumbling something about her teacher needing a steady boyfriend.

The bells on the door rung as she entered, hoping for a little chocolate milkshake 'pick-me-up' to rejuvenate her back to her bubbly self.

"Detention, again?" was all Serena was asked as she sat down next down to order her drink, not seeing Andrew around. She didn't even look up to know from whom the taunting voice came from. She'd memorized the deep, cynical voice from the first moment she met the man.

Though she daren't admit it, she'd come to crush upon the barer of that voice, though always felt that she was a little out of her league.

'That silky hair, those deep blue eyes, that smirk'… always a smirk for her, never a true smile.

"Haruna broke up with her latest boyfriend and needed to take it out on someone. I just _happened_ to have volunteered—" gritted Serena as she laid her head in her folded hands, leaning on the counter.

"By…?" asked the voice whom she hadn't yet looked up at.

Darien awaited her answer as he drank his blank coffee. He knew the answer would be an amusing one, one that'd be perfect to entertain him and embarrass her.

"By sleeping in class." Replied Serena weakly, hoping he'd buy it. That wasn't the full truth, though, and she knew it. But if Darien made her tell the full story, she'd never be able to look him in the eye again. Those deep blue eyes that made shivers run down her spine.

"Come on, 'Dango, what really happened? Even if she was in a bad mood, you'd have to fall asleep at least three times for Haruna to give you detention." Said Darien patiently, as he set down his coffee, awaiting an answer that he knew must be rich if she refused to share this badly.

"I…I…." Started Serena, still keeping her head down. She didn't go further as she gave a big sigh instead. She felt her cheeks turning red, and her ears.

Darien couldn't see her cheeks turning red, but he could make out the tips of her ears. He could tell she was extremely embarrassed and, although he would loved to know what it was about, thought it would be better to give her a day off from the taunting.

"It's okay, Meatball Head. We all get embarrassed from time to time." He said as he swirled his seat to her and squeezed one of her meatballs. He followed his hands down the loose hair at the end of her meatball, twirling the hair around his hand, letting the soft feeling of the silky hair run through his skin.

'I could run through it day after day…' he thought as he ran back up the hair, and couldn't help touching the back of her neck. 'Soft…. creamy…smooth.' He gently touched her neck with his fingertips, then rubbed a little as to give her a one-handed massage.

All this didn't go unnoticed by Serena as she felt the squeeze to her meatball, her hair being wrapped around the fingers of her taunter…both in real life and her dreams…she felt those hands do wondrous things to her in her dreams. She couldn't help but let a moan escape as he touched the back of her neck. First just simple touches then kneading her a little.

Darien barely heard the moan, and thought it was an annoyment to the slight touch and quickly moved his hand away, resting it on her shoulder.

"'Dango?" he asked. He swirled her seat so she would face him.

Serena looked up at him with a dreamy expression. She looked into those eyes that captivated her and couldn't look away. She remembered those eyes from her dreams. The dreams where his mouth did other things than just talk to her. Where his hands touched more than her hair or neck.

She looked dazed as she thought back to her many dreams, all involving her knight in shinning armor taking her into his arms and promising wondrous things to her. She felt her face get heated and couldn't get it back to it's normal state.

"…Darien…" she breathed…She couldn't stop herself from making it sound like a moan.

Her eyes looked darker. He'd had plenty of experience with a girl's eyes turning dark on with that look on their faces; plenty of experience until he met her, at least.

Though the offers still came, he replied to them less and less for an Odango was always dancing in his thoughts. An Odango with gold hair, radiating sunshine and happiness, with creamy skin that made him want to kiss her everywhere, with bright, blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled and more heatedly when she was angry. Those pouty, naturally pink lips that made him just want to push her against the wall and kiss her senseless. Make her moan out his name over and over again.

He loved the way her uniform hugged her so well. It was anything but indecent, but the curves she had were anything but small. Her full chest poking slightly through her loose shirt made him aware that she could fit perfectly in his palms. Her soft, round hips leading away from her waist, her long legs poking out from her knee length skirt making Darien think of other things they could be doing besides walking, all the while not knowing how gorgeous she looks. He could tell she didn't perceive any stares she received beyond boys wanting to be her friends and that intrigued him. Any other girl he knew would jump at the chance for such an offer as the ones presented by the onlookers.

The slight blush on her cheeks, getting darker every second, made him realize just what she said. She tried to turn her face away, feeling her eyes water at the embarrassment of just what she had done but his hand caught her chin to keep her head from moving towards the door. She tried turning the other way, but he just tightened his grip and used his other hands to hold her wrists in place as to prevent her from shaking his hand away.

"Serena…" was all he could muster up, as he had no idea what to ask her.

She drooped her eyes down in shame at having been caught. Hoping this was all a bad dream, she closed her eyes willing herself to wakeup and find herself having overslept for school, again.

He saw her close her eyes, and the red slowly leaving her features, something he was not too much in favor of. He started moving his hand on her chin to her graze her neck delicately, making her eyes shoot open. He saw the blush returning, causing him to chuckle, and brought his hand down to her shoulder to rub the hollow of her neck with his thumb.

He heard the beginning of a moan, which was soon silenced by Serena biting down on her lips to prevent any such noise from leaking out. He saw the panic in her eyes as she realized what he was doing to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, panting. "Not here…not now…" She cried desperately.

He continued to rub her neck, amused with the pleads she presented to him. She bit her lip again to suppress a moan, which escaped, but only audible to them.

"Darien…" She panted as he chuckled. "Please…" she begged, and he couldn't deny her with the look she award to him.

"Alright, Odango. But we need to talk. 'Kay?" he said as he released her hands, her chin, and allowed her to look at anything else but him.

The reds in her cheeks hadn't left yet, and they didn't look like they were leaving for a while. She looked at the backroom door, wondering where Andrew was. She murmured a 'thank you' as she continued to avoid his gaze. She started fidgeting with her skirt, which didn't help Darien any as they were wrapped more tightly around her milky thighs.

Before, he could control these little tidbits she did that made him want her but not after this. He knew after finding out that she harbored these feelings, he couldn't keep his posture in check. He grabbed onto her hands to stop, laying his hands firmly on her thighs. Her head jerked to his direction as her eyes shot open. He groaned inwardly as he felt her thighs beneath his hands. He was just beginning to rub them when Andrew came in, surprising the duo.

"Hey, there, you two. I've been in the back…." Andrew continued, cheery, not noticing the two looking uncomfortably.

They both jumped up in shock, and Serena made a dash to the door. Her long, slender legs carried her yet Darien grabbed her wrists before she could get to the door.

As Darien and Serena looked over to Andrew, to question why he hadn't mentioned anything about their odd behavior, they saw he was carrying boxes that reached half a foot above his head, blocking them from his view. As he was setting them down on the counter, he failed to notice that Darien's long forgotten coffee was on the counter, causing him to spill it all over the floor, and Darien. Although the coffee long ago got cold, the surprise of it falling on Darien caused him to release his hold on Serena, allowing her to make a quick escape.

"Sorry, there, buddy. Here's some paper towels, and you can use the backroom. Would've been nice if one of you actually helped me, you know. Where'd Serena go?"

Darien heard not a word Andrew said as he was trying to dry his pants with the paper towels shoved at him and staring blankly at the door, wondering where she could have run off.

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	2. Chapter 2

'That wasn't good. Wasn't good at all! He knows…he knows…'

Thoughts were racing in Serena's head as she ran. She didn't know where she was running to, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She had to get away.

She didn't bother to stop for the pedestrians, leaving people on the floor from knocking into them. Boxes spilled behind her, beverages dropped on the floor and others, and she still didn't stop but muttered an apology as she ran.

Embarrassment was clearly written on her face. She'd never felt her heart race like this. She knew it couldn't just be from the running, though she wished it was.

Before she knew it, she was in a part of town that she never knew existed with rich apartments and qualified people hurrying to jobs and appointments.

She was catching her breath when it happened.

She stopped from the aching in her knees as she ran non-stop for how long she didn't know. She never even ran like that to school when she was late.

Her body was heaving; her white shirt was clinging to her chest. Some of the buttons were undone, most likely from the run, lowering her neckline. Her face was flushed, and her hair drooping. Her knees threatened to give out and nearly did as someone grabbed her from the back in a tight hold.

Darien was in the arcade wiping his pants as Andrew apologized to him repeatedly while cleaning the counter.

The raven-haired man barely heard his friend as his thoughts continued to race towards the buxom blonde that was in the arcade just moments ago. He didn't see which was she ran, and had his own problems to worry about, so didn't chase after her at the moment.

'She'll be back; and when you come back, Serena, we're going to have a serious talk.'

He remembered her flushed face, softening his heart. Her creamy skin which he longed to feel again. The milky thighs he missed rubbing, and silky hair he'd love to run his hands through with no concern.

"Darien…. Darien…._ Darien!_" Andrew yelled, making his friend come out of his thoughts.

"Huh…?" was all he could say blankly. He started at the blonde's once apologetic, now slightly angry and bemused face.

"Did the coffee mug hit you on your head or something, Dare?" Asked Andrew chuckling, as he never saw Darien look lost before.

"I..." was all that came out of the confused man's mouth as he started at his friend wondering what he was previously babbling about. His thoughts were rudely interrupted and he rather liked thinking of the bouncing blonde that wrapped such a tight red ribbon around his heart without even knowing it.

Andrew now broke out in laughter as he watched man before him clad in stained pants, holding a wad of soggy paper towels, with a lost face and eyes that couldn't seem focus on anything for more than a few seconds. Never had he seen the college student look out of place before, much less to this degree.

"Do you wanna use the back room to fix your pants, Dare?" Asked Andrew, hoping the question would get through to his friend while he still had his attention.

"I...Um, actually, I think I'll just go home and change 'em. But thanks, 'Drew." Darien lazily walked to the door, dazing in and out as he thought of that mysteriously Odangoed girl.

"'Kay, Dare. Later." Answered Andrew, getting the feeling his friend wasn't exactly listening to him anymore.

The bells on the door jingled as Darien left the Crown, though he heard not a sound wrapped up in his own thoughts.

'Where'd she run off? Home? The park? To a friend's houses?'He thought as he shuffled his feet, indolently walking to his apartment. He let out a deep sigh thinking that he'd lost his chance of seeing her today and would need to wait a day or more to see the blonde goddess again.

He looked around him, noticing stains of good dropped on the floor and discarded drinks, watching not to step into them.

'There's only one person I know that could've left a mess like this behind…'

Hope was restored within him. He knew Serena barely knew her way around the part of town she _did_ live in, frequently getting lost, but he never heard her mention even _entering _his part of town.

'She has no idea where she'd be. If I hurry, I could probably catch her. My little meatball head, you won't get away so quickly this time.' He chuckled, forming a devious plan within his mind.

Then he ran.

He ran as fast as he could, making sure to look to his sides to see if he could spot the blonde maiden.

He followed the trail of discarded items.

The sweet trail she didn't even know she left behind.

As he noticed the apartment complexes around him, he realized he was getting closer and closer to his _own_ apartment.

'My, does she know how to get herself into a trap.' He thought as he spotted her at last.

There she was, with her back turned to him, gasping for breath, her knees quivering; her skirt drooping down from her run, touching her delicious calves. Before he knew it, he was quietly dashing towards her.

He quickly snaked his arm around her waist without her knowing until it was too late. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other came around from her waist, between her endowed cups to rest gently, but firmly on her left shoulder crushing her back to him.

She struggled, not knowing who was behind her. Who left her unable to move her upper body and had her clinging to the strong chest behind her.

"Hey, Meatball head, calm down." Darien whispered into her ear and chuckled when he noticed her shiver. "It's just me."

'He's _got _me. God, of all the people I could have behind me, of all the serial killers, of all the rapists, of all the kidnappers, of all the pedophiles in the world, I had to have _him_. Why does fate hate me?' Frantically thought Serena as she clamed down slightly, shivering as he whispered into her ear knowing full well he could have just talked out loud. She bowed her head as her face turned pink.

"Can't run away this time, 'Dongo." He whispered, nuzzling her neck. "Come on, you seem to have walked right in front of my apartment building." She went stiff as he uttered those words.

He nudged her into the building, forcing her to walk into it.


	3. Chapter 3

They walked up to his apartment in silence. Darien hadn't let her go but eased on his hold so it would be easier for her to walk.

She could see his smirk through her peripheral vision

_Great_._ The jerk's actually pleased. Glad to know one of us is enjoying this._

Serena signed a sigh of defeat and shame, and all she got in return was a hardy chuckle from her warden.

They stepped into the elevator to go up.

She was hoping that all she'd hear was the elevator music but as soon as the doors closed to leave them clandestine from the rest of the world, but alas, this just wasn't her day.

"What am I going to do with you, my delicious Odango?"

Serena didn't think she could get any stiffer until he uttered that phrase. _His 'd' what?!_

After that, no more was said in the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and they walked out.

Serena was now desperately hoping to make a scene and scurry out, however, to her chagrin, they were alone on this floor. She looked around three times from where she was trapped by the upperclassman, in which she could only rotate her head around and sighed once again.

"Sorry, Odango Atama, not many people live on the top floor."

She must've not been very secretive during her surveillance and must've caught his attention.

"Top floor? Isn't that with the pent houses?"

"Yep. Now keep walking; we're almost there."

He nudged her on and they walked until they were standing in front of his door.

"666. How appropriate, eh, Jerk?"

She couldn't help giggling and felt very proud to have made such a remark when her whole body felt the pressure squeezing her insides out.

She felt her eyes pop out of their sockets as she felt him breathe in her ear.

"I guess so, since it's about to get very _hot_ in there." He whispered into her ear.

She felt her ears burn and cheeks flare at his remark, causing him to chuckle. She wished she could take back her earlier remark seeing him get so much pleasure out of her squirm at _his_ latest.

She felt him shift her a bit so he could find his keys and open the door. His hand ended up very near her left breast and she whimpered at the connection.

Her hands flew up and grabbed his to move it as much as it was able to move. _Why is he so strong?!_

"Hmm?" he questioned. It was pure accidental. He never meant to brush up anywhere…just yet, anyway.

"Sorry," she started, "Post menstrual. They're a bit sore." She explained.

"I apologize. Didn't know and I'll keep that in consideration." He didn't seem the least bit bothered about this topic, which struck he as very unusual but made her feel a bit more comfortable.

_He's not freaked out or anything? A lot more mature than Melvin, that's for sure! I wonder what else he'd be comfortable talking about…?_

She was in a daze and didn't realize he'd opened the door already and was patiently waiting for her to enter on her own. Seeing as that wasn't what she had in mind, he used the hand he used to open the door to pat her behind and push her in.

"Come on, Odango, I'm not gonna bake you in a pie and eat you." He urged.

"Eeeeeeeeek!" She screamed.

Serena shot up at the new feeling on her backside and ran in to put some distance between the two. She, however, didn't get very far as Darien wouldn't release his hold on her with his other arm encompassing her upper body.

"Although," he whispered, "I'm sure you'd taste delectable with chocolate syrup and whipped cream." He nuzzled her ear as he finished.

_Is it wrong that I actually enjoy hearing that?_

Serena felt the butterflies in her stomach flutter to no end and she had to lean back on him to make sure she wouldn't fall over.

"Speaking of food," she piped up, looking up at him, completely ignoring his supercilious chuckle, "Got any?"

Darien gazed down at her with an amused expression pondering how her stomach could think of food at his obliviously sexual remark.

"Chocolate syrup." He simply responded.

"Anything else?" she questioned with an eyebrow quirking upward.

"Whipped cream." He added.

All Serena could do was quiver slightly and nibble on her bottom lip as she took in the tension radiating from his body.

Darien continued to watch her white pearls take tiny bites of her appetizing lower lip as she gazed up at him. He alternated looking into her eyes to staring at her lips as she continued giving him a helpless look with her bright blue eyes while her white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip.

Serena felt more and more nervous as Darien kept staring into her eyes with his deep blue ones while switching to watch her mouth with every new movement she made with her teeth.

He didn't know what was holding him back from pushing her back against the door behind me and kissing her senseless, but he knew that he would lose his control and devour her if she did anything else.

And like a moth to a flame, she did just to unleash the beast.

"Darien…" she said, hoping to talk to him about the situation they were in.

He obviously thought otherwise of her intentions of saying his name as she was roughly pushed against his door and before she could question his actions, he silenced her with a kiss truly from the devil.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Yet.

I finally got back to writing this story! The next updates will be a lot faster, I promise you! Read and review, please!

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Darien swallowed her protests, his lips rubbing against her own. Her body trembled against him, small hands clutching his shirt. She vaguely remembered a thought to push him away, but now she couldn't think past his soft lips urging her onto more pressing matters. A moan escaped her as he licked her lips, then bathing the wetness with his warm breath.

His warm fingers grip her waist higher, causing Serena to gasp in surprise. He took the opportunity to make his way inside her mouth before she could recover. Pushing past the soft lips, his tongue entered the warm cresses of her mouth. He tasted chocolate.

Her body tensed while fingers pulled at his shirt in panic. She'd never done this before. How was she suppose to respond? Small whimpers caught in her mouth as she tried shaking her head to get out of his hold.

Rubbing her back in a soothing motion, he helped her relax as his tongue showed her new pleasures. Stroking her own tongue with his, he felt her body shiver. Definitely not tense anymore.

Grasping her head, he shifted the angle, giving him a better position to plunder her mouth. How many times had he imagined this very scenario? Her sweet tongue joined in, copying his motions. He groaned into her mouth and tugged her closer.

His fingers clutched at the strands of golden hair, soft against his skin. Gripping her scalp, he dug deeper, nicking the pins holding up her hair style. What he wouldn't give to see that mass of hair free. Wrapped around his body.

Giving into temptation, he pulled the hair loose, pins falling to the floor. His hands grazed her soft scalp, pulling her head closer as his mouth devoured hers.

Serena moaned, arching into his hold. Her body flushed against his own, fingers crawling upwards, getting lost in his hair. Gripping the strands, she heard him groan as she stroked his tongue like he taught her. The rich taste of coffee mixed with her chocolate and created an addictive flavour she couldn't help but give into. Surrendering herself deeper into his hold, she wrapped a foot around Darien's leg, inching higher up his body.

Darien growled as he felt her soft body climb his own. Clutching her small waist, he pulled her closer, feeling the hard buttons on her blouse dig into his chest. Holding her steady with one hand, he used the other to lift one of her legs higher, wrapping it around his waist. Her other leg automatically joined, and he pushed back with her body steady against the door and her legs around his waist.

He smiled as this position gave him greater flexibility with his hands, something he was grateful for. As his tongue wrestled with her own, he let his fingers trail upwards.

Serena ripped her lips away, gasping as his warm hands caressed underneath her bra. She didn't even feel him unbutton her shirt.

"Wait—no—" She groaned as he trailed his lips from her cheek, nibbling down her chin, and landing on her neck. Right on her pulse. How did she not know that spot was so sensitive? "Oh, God!" she breathed, clutching his hair tight in her fingers, keeping his head against her neck.

Her head shot back in a wail as he sucked harder, her skin energized. She could feel everything. The lips on her neck. The tongue licking as his teeth nibbled right on the edge of pain. One hand clutching her tighter against him while the other traced the outline of her white bra, the thumb digging itself underneath, trying to graze the hidden flesh.

"Waited so long," he murmured. Satisfied he left his mark on her, he kissed his way back to her lips. He groaned as he felt the soft, supple lips greet his own with encouragement. It felt like home.

Gripping her derriere, he held her steady against himself and took a step backwards. Her soft body rubbed against his own at the rocking motion causing them both to groan at the raw sensation. Serena gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers clawing into the shirt as he walked again. He rubbed her backside, massaging the ample behind as he nibbled on her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth, reaching forward to do some nibbling herself.

He held her tightly and dropped down onto his couch. Gasping in surprise, her head shot up.

"Wha—"

"More comfortable," he groaned.

Darien traced his lips back down to her neck again. His rough cheek grazed her tender flesh, her body trembling at the prickling sensation. The slight burn followed by gentle licks and a surprise bite as he travelled across her flesh, tasting her collar bone. She gasped as his hands kneaded her rear, pushing her body higher. Her skirt bunched around her waist, exposing more creamy skin.

Her fingers gripped his raven locks, pulling his head back, away from her neck. With a last few pecks, he allowed her to move him. Placing her knees on either side of his legs, she reached up towards him.

Giving him a hard kiss on the mouth, she inched down to his chin and gently bit him. Surprised, he let out a sharp curse and gripped her thighs firmly. Ignoring him, her mouth landed on his neck, suck generously at the spot right above his pulse. He gave out another sharp curse, his head falling back granting her greater access.

"_Yes_," he hissed, eyes rolling back in his head.

The frantic pulse in his neck beat against her tongue. His breath left in puffs as she sucked at the spot, lapping it generously like a kitten, then heated the flesh with her warm breaths. She nipped at his throat, kissing her way down to the collar of his shirt. Her anxious hands worked on his buttons, pulling and pinching at them until she snapped one off. Darien let out a gruff chuckle at her urgency, followed by a deep groan as her mouth latched onto the exposed skin. Licking the hot flesh, she tasted his husky scent. Her toes curled at the flavour and she went back for another helping.

As she continued her ministrations, his warm hands caressed her thighs. Tracking his way downwards, her legs moved up to reach his touch, trembling against his fingertips. He felt the cotton of her knee-high socks and groaned as she gripped his waist tighter with both her knees. Stroking his hands back up her thighs, his fingers kneaded her flesh, sending sparks down her back. Reaching her skirt, his thumb rubbed circles under the hem, eliciting a moan from the blonde.

She kissed her way back up his neck, sighing as she rubbed her cheek against his rough shave, and placed her lips on his. Once again his mouth devoured hers, his tongue stroking deeper making her head spin. She raised her arms and let her fingers lose themselves in his hair. Scraping her nails against her scalp, she pulled his closer, moaning into his mouth.

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, his tongue tangled with hers. Curling her fingers in his hair, her hands made their way to his shoulders, gripping the hard muscles. She pulled him closer, arching her legs into his touch. His fingers clasped her thighs, kneading the gentle flesh. Thumbs rubbing soft circles, he inched his way under her skirt. Reaching the elastic of her underwear—

"_No!_"

Shoving against his chest, Serena fell off and landed with a thud on the carpet. Her hands shot to her lap, grasping the wrinkled skirt to cover her exposed thighs.

She stared up at him, his hands still hanging in the air. Soft puffs of breath left his body, identical to her own. Trembling, her eyes travelled from his surprised gaze to his red, swollen lips.

Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to her own lips. Moist. And swollen. "I…"

He reached for her. "Let me—"

Yelping, she scrambled backwards.

He froze, dumbfounded at her panic. She couldn't be afraid of him, could she? After what they just shared…

Stumbling over her hair, she looked down to see the blonde strands in disarray. She blushed remembering how he had pulled her hair free. The pins lost in the moment. And then her shirt—she gasped seeing the sight. Her school blouse crinkled, left open with her bra on display. Her hands rushed to the crumpled material, wrapping it closed before hastening to button the garment.

Hesitantly standing, she kept her gaze on him as she slowly walked backwards. "You and I," she said, quivering, "we…"

"Yeah," he said, licking his lips. He groaned inwards, still tasting her on him. "We—"

"_We__shouldn__'__t__have_—"

"You weren't complaining a second ago," he grunted, eyes narrowing.

Her face blanched.

She looked down at her half buttoned blouse. Her eyes watered as she realized just how she must've looked. Sitting with her top barely covering her. Her hands were pulling his buttons off his shirt.

"Right," she said, gripping the wrinkled garment closer around her. "It was my fault—"

"That's not what I meant!" He gripped his hair, pulling until the strands groaned.

"It's fine," she scrambled towards the door. "I-I shouldn't have—I didn't mean to—"

He stood up, reaching for her again. "It wasn't your fault—"

"_No!_" she cried, eyes widening. "D-don't come closer!"

Stopping mid step, he watched her eyes glisten with unshed tears. He saw her body shiver with fear, looking up at him as if waiting for him to—

"Meatball head, it's me," he said softly. "It's just Darien; I'm not going to—"

"I have to go!" She fumbled with the door knob, keeping her eyes on him to make sure he didn't get any closer.

"You don't have to—"

"_No-no-no-no_," she whimpered, her head shaking back and forth Eyes widening as she finally heard the door click open, she yanked the door open. Keeping her gaze on him, she took scurried backwards into the hallway. "D-don't follow me."

Looking away from her scared face, he gave a sharp nod. He cringed as the door slammed.

Gripping his hands into fists, he fell back on the couch with a grunt. "Idiot," he groaned, hearing her footsteps thump farther from the apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

Alright, I started this story years and years ago and now I'm wondering if the character's don't match up previous-chapters to current-chapters wise. Should I rewrite the story to make it match or just leave it as is? Thoughts? I'd love some feedback on this, please!

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"Idiot," Darien groaned again.

He was laying in bed, relaying in his mind the events that happened just a few hours ago. Glancing at his radio/alarm clock, he saw the numbers flash 2:32 AM.

"Ugh. So much for getting any sleep tonight."

Not that I deserve any, he thought.

He pinched the bridge of his nose thinking about how he treated Serena. Jumped her with the grace of hyena, and basically devoured her like one.

"No, not _devoured_," he chided himself. "You're not suppose to enjoy basically taking advantage of some—_wha—"_

His body shot up from the bed, sitting with the covers around him. "Oh, God! What did I—she's not even—"

Glancing at his hands currently gripping his comforter, he remembered where those hands had been. Where they touched her.

"_Oh, crap!_"

Jumping out of bed, he started pacing around his bed room, pulling at his hair.

"What did I do?" he groaned.

He'd thought about doing it multiple times. But he always held himself back. Because he knew she was too young. Sure, their age difference wouldn't be an issue in the long run, but right now—today—no, today it was an issue. So he told himself he'd wait. He'd wait until she was ready. And he would be okay with that. He'd waited quite a while already. But today…

Saying he lost control would be the nice way of putting it.

Jumping someone to have your wicked way with them might be the more accurate description, though.

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After a restless night, the next morning Darien made his way to the Crown Arcade.

Taking his usual seat at the counter, he sighed seeing the empty space Serena always sat in. A seat that was currently unoccupied. He groaned and rested his head on the counter.

"Hey, Dare," said Andrew.

Darien looked up to see his friend on the other side of the counter. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, sure," said Andrew. "Just give me a sec." He made his way towards the backroom. "Actually, could you help me with something first?"

"Hmm?" Darien got up and followed his friend. "Yeah, sure." He felt he deserved to suffer without coffee for a while.

"It's right here. Could you get the door?"

"Yeah," said Darien, closing the door and moving closer to Andrew. "What're you—_Ow!_"

Darien stumbled back, holding his bruised cheek.

"Son of a—" muttered Andrew, nursing his fist. "What's your face made of, anyway?"

"Hey, you don't get to complain!" cried Darien. "You punched me! Why the heck are you—_Drew, quit it!_"

He dodged another fist coming in his direction. Grabbing hold of his friend's hands, Darien held them away from his face.

"Wait, no. Let me get in a few more punches," pleaded Andrew. "Come on, it'll make me feel better."

"Wha—_no!_" Darien glared at his friend. "Why the heck are you punching—"

Andrew glowered at him. "You _know_ why I'm kicking your butt like a one manned ninja army."

Darien raised an eyebrow. "One manned ninja—_wait_—wait," he stopped and his eyes widened. "You know?"

"Yes, I know," he spit out, trying to pull his hands free. "And now you know that I know exactly why I'm kicking your butt."

"I…" Darien wasn't sure how to handle this situation.

He was hoping he could slowly work last night into a conversation with his friend but it seemed he was already beaten to the punch. Not to mention also beaten with a punch.

"You what? Are you sorry? Because you better be." Andrew tugged harder at his hands. "Now please allow me the pleasure of beating you to a bloody pulp so we can discuss this matter civilly."

Darien held his friend's hands steady, while trying to keep his body a safe distance away. "How is beating me to a bloody pulp civil?"

"Civility will come after I avenge Serena."

"Avenge—"

"Dare," said Andrew with a cold calmness. His hands stopped fighting to break free. "Serena's like a sister to me. When a guy hurts her, it's my job to break a few bones. Now will you please give me the satisfaction of hurting you?"

Darien stared at his friend, thinking over the words. It seemed futile to remind him they were friends. And friends don't break friend's bones. But sometimes Andrew's chivalry got the best of him. And, sadly enough Darien really did feel like getting punished. Maybe then he'd feel better. Doubtful, but still maybe.

"And after you're done hurting me…?"

"_If_ I'm done hurting you," said Andrew, glaring at him. Darien kept his mouth shut. "Then you and I are going to have a talk."

"Right." Darien nodded his head in agreement. "Alright. I'm letting go."

"I'm preparing for you to let go."

"Wha—never mind." Darien took in a deep breath and let go of Andrew's hands. He moved a step back and looked his friend in the eye. His body stiffened but he refused to cower. Take your punishment like a man, he thought to himself.

Andrew moved a step closer, standing face to face with his best friend. Glaring at him, he raised his fist to Darien's head. Then he flicked Darien's forehead.

"_Ouch!_"

Darien's hand shot to his forehead, rubbing the spot.

"You brought it upon yourself," said Andrew, shrugging. He folded his arms looked down at Darien.

"Yes, I did." He was still rubbing the sore spot. "God, you got me good."

"I've developed massive finger strength from years of using the slurpee machine." He flexed his finger with pride.

"I can imagine," muttered Darien, still rubbing his forehead. "I think I'm actually going to bruise there."

"That's what happens when I'm done punishing someone."

"But _flicking_ someone's forehead?"

"Being _clever_ with administering punishments is the best kind of hitman," said Andrew proudly.

"I wasn't sure I deserved that."

"Well you _did_ deserve it. You can't jump someone's bones like that, Dare."

"I get that!" He groaned and looked away in disgust. "I hate myself for it. She's too young and vulnerable for that sort of stuff—"

"Her age isn't the issue—"

"Of course it's the issue!" argued Darien. "She probably hates me now—"

"Probably, but—"

"I swear I was going to wait a few years and now I do this stupid—"

"_Would you shut up?_" Andrew grabbed Darien and shook his shoulders. "Shut up before I deck you again."

"What're you—"

"_Shut. Up._" Andrew glared at his friend as if daring him to interrupt again. Darien sighed and nodded his head in compliance. "_Good._ First," he said, holding up a finger, "yes, you were a real jerk."

Darien winced hearing the words. It was one thing to think it and say it out loud to himself the entire night, but it sucked having his best friend confirm it.

"But that's not the issue right now—"

"How can it not be the issue? I took advantage of her—"

"You didn't take advantage of her," spit out Andrew. "She likes you, you idiot!"

Darien's jaw dropped.

"And it's not a recent development," said Andrew slowly, as if allowing time for his friend's mind to catch up to what others would consider common knowledge. "She's liked you for years."

"W-w-wha—"

"Yes, for _years_. She talks about you all the time. I swear it was like being on _Sex and the City_," Andrew said rolling his eyes. "_Darien said this to me, what do you think it means? He looked at me like this today, but then he did this. Do you think he thinks I'm too young 'cause I think he thinks I'm too young but I don't think I'm too young since I'm not as young as I used to be, which was pretty young, so I think I can make him think I'm not too young compared to my old younger age since I'm not that young anymore—what do you think?_" he said, imitating Serena's voice. "I swear I'm still lost on that last question," he groaned, scratching his head.

"She…likes me?" Darien asked, pointing to himself.

"Yes," said Andrew slowly, nodding his head. "She," he said, imitating her hairstyle on his own head—"likes"—he made a heart motion with his fingers—"you"—he pointed to Darien—"a lot"—he said, spreading his arms wide.

Darien blinked. "Huh?"

Andrew sighed and thought if Helen Keller could be taught…

"You are Darien," said Andrew, nodding his head. "You like Serena. Yes?"

Darien slowly nodded his head, agreeing with the claim.

"Good. Glad we have that settled." Andrew sighed and moved onto the next part of the lesson. "Now this Serena—the one you like—yes that blond one. She likes Darien—that's you. You like her and she likes you back. Get it?"

Darien stared at his friends fingers that were again making a heart. Thinking for a moment, he turned back to his friend.

"When?" asked Darien.

"When did she like you? About—"

"No," he said, waving away the response, "not that when." He glared at his friend. "When did you know?"

Andrew casually shrugged. "Oh, for a few years."

"_Years?_" Darien glowered at his friend. "You've known for _years_ but you never told me—"

"Hey!" Andrew folded his arms and stood his ground. "I'm a _bartender_. I listen to my customers problems and hold onto their secrets till death."

"Are you planning on dying in the next few seconds 'cause you just ratted out her secret to me, you know."

Andrew skipped a beat. "Uh, some circumstances are unavoidable—spilling the beans wise."

"How loyal," drawled Darien, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, what can I say?" said Andrew, throwing up his arms. "You get a few drinks in me and I'm quite the chatterbox."

Darien raised an eyebrow. "You don't sell alcohol here."

"Yeah, but my milkshakes are pretty intense."

"Right," said Darien, rolling his eyes again. "Anyway, let me get this clear—"

"You didn't take advantage of her because…," said Andrew, waving a hand for Darien to fill in the blank.

"—because she likes me…"

"And…?"

"And wanted me to like her back."

"Getting physical with someone is not how you tell someone you like her," said Andrew, glaring at him. "That's like sneaking into her bedroom and watching her sleep just to be close to her."

"Right."

"Okay, technically you did take advantage of her—"

"Oh, God!"

"But you didn't know it—_not _that it gives you an out. You feeling guilty about it and wanting to set things right is why it's okay."

"Right. I need better ways to tell her I like her. Because she likes me."

"Not just likes you," said bartender, waving a finger 'no.' "She _like_ likes you."

"Thank you," said Darien, dead pan, "_Hey Arnold! _made that distinction quite clear to me."

"I could always relate to Eugene so well," pondered Andrew. "What do you think that means?"

"I think it means I now understand why you watch _Sex and the City_…"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with finding a faux support group to help with romantic troubles."

"Not judging," said Darien, putting up his hands in defense.

Andrew glared at his friend.

"Fine, I'm judging," he said, nodding his head. "But it's none of my business."

"That's right," said Andrew, nodding in affirmation. "Besides, it helps me with my female customers."

Darien thought for a minute and shrugged his shoulders. "Probably does. Now back to me."

"Right. You. Okay, Serena likes you, so she doesn't mind you showing interest in her." Andrew took a second to glare at his friend. "Though if you show that much interest in her again I might just have to break your legs, if you know what I mean."

"Spot on," said Darien, looking down to hide a small blush.

"Good. Now, she likes knowing that you like her. She _doesn't like_ you using her—"

"She thinks I used her?"

"No, not exactly—"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Darien.

"It means," said Andrew, glowering at his friend, "_I_ think you used her and _I _don't like you using her."

"Wait, man," said Darien, throwing his hands up. "It wasn't like that—"

Andrew rolled his eyes and sighed. "I know it wasn't like _that_. But you don't get it. She's young."

"I assure you, I _totally_ get that."

"No, Darien," he said, looking at his friend. "She didn't know what was happening; it was too intense for her. You've gotta slow down."

"I know that—"

"No!" Andrew huffed. He took a deep breath before continuing. "It's like the first time you're on a roller coaster—adrenaline's pumping and you know that you're on the ride but all you can do the first time is hold on to your breath while you're lost in the rush of it all. You just don't think, you experience—all you do is feel."

"I guess I get that."

"Right, and you remember what happens at the end?"

Darien shrugged his shoulders. "It's over?"

"Yeah," said Andrew, staring at his friend annoyed. "It's over. That's why it's the perfect analogy…"

"Sorry," said Darien, rolling his eyes. "What happens at the end, oh great Sensei?"

"You get off the ride—"

"Hey! That means it's over—"

"No! It's over sooner than you think. You don't get that time passed. You were too busy feeling the rush that you don't think. You remember that there were loops and high drops, but you don't really get what was happening until the ride ends. Then you remember things. You remember things you did. Just standing up is hard 'cause you're disoriented and it's a completely surprise."

"It's not a complete surprise—"

"To you it's not, Dare." He looked at his friends. "You've been through this before. Plenty of times. This is Serena's first roller coaster ride. She doesn't know what's happening. And it's gonna scare her. Actually, it _already _scared her plenty. I mean, I was the one to point out her hickey to her—she didn't even notice."

"Right, that," said Darien, blushing. He adjusted the collar on his neck, making sure it hid everything."

Andrew caught the movement and glared at his friend. "Anyway, I'm not quite sure what happened when she came to her senses, but she wasn't in a happy place."

"Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head, "I wasn't thinking what I was saying after…"

"What'd you say to her?"

"You—she-she didn't tell you?" Darien looked at him surprised.

"She wasn't comfortable sharing that tidbit of information," he said shrugging. "Didn't seem right to drag it out of her. Anyway, you should probably go talk to her."

Darien nodded his head, feeling better that his friend was alright with not knowing every aspect of his and Serena's relationship. Because there certainly would be a relationship if he had anything to say about it. And Andrew giving the two boundaries was blessing enough.

"Well you've certainly given me plenty to think about," said Darien, nodding his head in thanks. "Just…I didn't know she liked me. How the heck did I miss that?"

"Hey, it's fine." Andrew shrugged. "You know now and that's the point. Now you two can really talk about this."

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head. "Talk about how she's liked me. For _years_. And how I didn't know about it."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Dare. It's not a big deal; you don't even know she has dreams about you."

"—Wait—_what?_"

"Um," said Andrew, swallowing. He moved slightly back. "N-nothing. I didn't say anything. Just the milkshakes talking—"

"She _dreams_ about me?" he asked, moving a step closer.

* * *

After having read this chapter, what do you all think on a revision? What're your thoughts on Andrew? Is he a bit too erratic? Or is the character funny this way? Thoughts on how the story's coming along? Review please!

Till next time!


	6. Chapter 6

Here's the latest installment! Hope you all like it. Also, this story is going to stay rated T. I was asked to change the rating to M, but I'm sorry that's just not where this story is going to go.

* * *

Serena fidgeted with the collar of her school uniform. Pulling it up higher, she made sure it hid the darkened bruise on her neck.

Gently, she reminded herself. She didn't want to brush off the makeup she put on in the morning to conceal the after effects of the night before.

Sighing, she couldn't believe it was just last night. It felt like an eternity and an hour ago all at the same time.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply. Her chest inflated, pushing her breasts outwards. She remembered the feeling of breathing this deeply into Darien's chest. His torso pushed back, making her feeling tingly all over.

And then his hands.

Her breath caught and her throat suddenly felt dry.

Remembering the sensation, she bit her lip from letting any sound escape her mouth. Long, strong fingers moulding her tender flesh. He was gentle. Massaging the globes softly, a firm grip pulling them up and then his thumb rubbing over her—

"_Ahem!_"

Serena gasped, her eyes shot open staring at Ms. Haruna glaring down at her. Her arms were folded and her foot was tapping.

"Thank you for waking up, Serena." Ms. Haruna bit out the words, steam nearly coming out of her nose. The blonde guessed her teacher was trying to wake her up for a while… "This isn't the first time I've caught you sleeping in class."

The students around them giggled. Serena's face turned red, her ears following suit.

You'd think someone can get away from sleeping in class if you sit in the back, grumbled Serena in her head.

She shot a glance at Molly, the red head looked back at her with worry written all over her face. Serena wanted to get to school early to talk with her friend about everything, but she could barely get to sleep. Most of the night was spent tossing and turning in bed.

"If you doze off again, young lady, I'll be forced to write you another detention slip."

The class giggled again.

Serena thanked the stars Ms. Haruna only gave her a warning this time. Perhaps things were going better her boyfriend and she didn't want to be stuck monitoring detention today.

"Sorry, Ms. Haruna," she muttered.

Her teacher _hmpfed!_ and made her way back to the front of the class.

"As I was saying, first you isolate the x by…"

Catching another look at Molly, Serena saw her friend sighing with relief. That made two of them.

She escaped one disaster, but how to deal with the one plaguing her mind? Serena could hardly wait until lunch time to talk with her friend.

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"What happened?" asked Molly, opening her bag of goldfish crackers. "I could barely hear you over the phone last night."

"Sorry," grumbled Serena, staring at her turkey sandwich. "I didn't want my parents to over hear."

"So? Talk!" urged the red head, "Or you'll have to wait till after school—"

"Alright!" Serena shoved away her lunch and rubbed her hands over her thighs. "But it's not easy…"

"Your lunch," said the red head, looking down at her friend's lunchbox. "Not only have you not started eating it yet, you just pushed it away…" She looked back up at Serena, eyes wide. "Just how serious is this?"

"I…" Serena turned to her friend. "Okay, remember I had detention yesterday—"

"Yeah, for sleeping in class. You're lucky Haruna didn't give you one again—"

"Very lucky," she said, nodding her head. "But yesterday—after detention—I went to the arcade."

"Okay. Nothing out of the ordinary there."

"Right. Well Darien was there," said the blonde. She pursed her lips and sighed before continuing. "And I—he—it was just—I mean—"

"Spit it out! What happened?"

"I can't. It's—"

"Alright," said Molly, clutching Serena's shoulders. She took in a deep breath, nudging the blonde to do the same. "Let's do this slowly."

Serena nodded her head and sighed.

"Okay." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright, it's like this: you know how I've been sleeping and then, you know, he—Darien—would, um, how I'd—"

"How you dream about him?" asked Molly, smirking.

"Hey, this is serious!"

"So serious," said Molly, giggling. "_Oh, Darien, you've got such strong arms. A horse drawn carriage just for me? You shouldn't have! Why yes, I would love for you to pick me up and carry me over the mud puddle so I don't get wet_—Hey!"

The red head laughed as goldfish flew at her face.

"Not funny!" Serena hid back a smile, her face red. "You're supposed to be helping."

Muffling her last few laughs as coughs, Molly urged her friend to continue.

"It started off as dreams at night," said Serena, bringing her knees up to her chest and rest her chin on them. "But now—in class—I can't seem to—"

"You haven't been _sleeping_ sleeping in class. You're thinking about Darien—you've been day dreaming!"

"I didn't mean to," pleaded the blonde. "But I close my eyes and all I see is…" She sighed, her fingers going to her neck, tracing the mark he left. She bit her lip looking up at Molly.

"What? Is there more?"

"Yeah." She nodded hear head and looked back down. "Y-yesterday, I went to the arcade, right? Well, Darien was there and-and I put my head down—just for a second, I swear! And—I don't know—I couldn't help it…"

"What're you—oh!" Her hand shot to her mouth, understanding what her friend was saying. Moving her hand down, Molly looked at her friend with concern. "Do you think he knew?"

"Yeah." Serena looked away. "Not everything, but he guessed something like that."

"Oh…"

"That's not all of it." She took in a deep breath, preparing to tell her friend everything. Making it this far, she knew she could finish it. Besides, she already told Andrew. Just reliving everything again from the beginning was hard…

"What happened?"

"Well, I ran out of the arcade. I didn't even know where I was running—I just wanted to get out of there. And-and I don't know what happened—I had no idea where I was going and when I stopped, I didn't recognize any of the buildings. When I was about to ask someone for directions, he—D-Darien—he found me. I—he-he said I was right in front of his building…"

"Oh, wow…"

"Yeah, just my luck," she said groaning. Then the part that happened afterwards… Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

"Serena? Are you okay?"

"Yes—no—well, just…he took me to his place and…"

Her hand massaged the mark on her neck as she relayed the events that transpired next.

"Oh, wow..." Molly just stared at her friend not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah."

"How was it?" asked a curious Molly.

"I don't know—I mean, it was nice at first. _Really_ nice. But-but then..."

"Then it hurt?"

"No, not like that. Just overwhelming."

"Too fast too soon?" asked Molly with a shrug.

"Yeah...It's not like I minded kissing him or anything—"

"You've had a mondo crush on Darien for years. And after hearing about your dreams, I know well enough you less than _mind_ Darien trying to kiss you." She rolled her eyes and smiled at her friend.

Serena turned pink, not bothering to deny the claims.

"I wouldn't mind doing it again. Just—not that like that. Not so soon, anyway. It was just really intense. I mean, I didn't even know what was happening before it happened. Does that make sense?"

"I guess." Molly shrugged and sighed. "It probably didn't help that it was your first kiss."

"Yeah," grumbled Serena. "Which doesn't help with Darien thinking I'm too young. I don't know how to make myself seem mature to him—not without completely changing myself, anyway."

"Don't bother dating him if he wants you to change who you are for him," said Molly seriously. "I don't need some guy telling my best friend she's not good enough. You're perfect just the way you are."

"Thanks," said Serena with a smile. "Though I think it's more that he still sees me as young. Not that I blame him for this situation—I mean I had no idea what to do. One minute we were kissing and then—then..."

"And then you were put in an uncomfortable situation and sought a means of escape to resolve the problem. Mostly likely you sought familiar ground during your confused state." Serena gave her a weird look. "I was watching _Dr. Phil_ a few days ago," said Molly with a shrug.

The blonde just nodded her head. "I ran back to the arcade and talked to Andrew."

"Andrew?"

"I wanted to find you," she said, looking up at Molly, "really, I would've told you first. But I didn't know where you were—and I tried calling when I got home, but—"

"No, no, don't worry about that," said Molly, waving away the concern of who Serena confided in first. "I just meant that Andrew's not just your friend. He's Darien's friend, too. Best friend, I'd guess."

"Yeah, I know. But I trust Andrew."

"You sure he won't blab?"

"I told Andrew I'd kill him if he told Darien anything," said Serena, rubbing her neck again.

"Wow, so that's the mark?" asked Molly, leaning in closer.

"Darn! Did I rub off all the make up?" Serena pulled collar back, trying to feel for the powdery hint of the concealer she applied earlier.

"Do you have any more?" Watching the blonde pull out the makeup case from her pockets, Molly held out a hand for it. "Lunch is almost over; I'll put it on for you."

Serena mumbled a thanks and sat still while her friend applied make up.

"Eesh! That looks like it hurts."

"Actually," said the blonde, "it felt pretty nice at the time." She looked away blushing as her friend smirked again.

Rushing back to class, they suffered through a few more classes. Ms. Haruna made it a point to walk by Serena's desk every few minutes, making sure the blonde didn't doze off again. Embarrassed at the special attention, the blonde was happy knowing she would at least be unavailable for her usual detention spot.

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"Finally," grumbled Serena, packing her bag at the end of the school day. Making her way to Molly, she stopped mid step.

She couldn't go back to the arcade now. Surely Darien would be there.

No.

The arcade was definitely out.

Darn! She groaned at the loss of her milkshakes. But more importantly, where was she suppose to go now?

"Ready?" asked Molly.

"For what?" Serena allowed her friend to lead her out of the school building. "Where are am I going to go now? I can't go to the arcade—I just can't."

"Maybe the park?"

"I guess. But I wanted milkshake first and now—"

"You're seriously not even going to step into the building?"

"What if _he's_ there? I can't see him again—"

"You're bound to see him again, Serena."

"But Molly!"

"But I guess seeing so soon wouldn't help any," said the red head, holding up her hands in defence. "Alright, I'll go in and get your milkshake; then we can head over to the park. Sound good?"

"I guess. But you've gotta get my milkshake right."

"Isn't it just chocolate?"

"No, no," said Serena, shaking her head in disagreement. "It's a double chocolate, extra cream, fudge shake. And a hint of hazelnut."

"Hazelnut?"

"It's really good!"

As they saw the sign for the arcade, Serena turned to her friend and gripped her shoulders. "Can you remember my order, Molly? Because it's very important. I really need my milkshake. I mean, I can write it down for you—"

"Oh, you!" Molly rolled her eyes and turned back to walk towards the arcade. "I'll remember it just fine; wait here."

"I'm counting on you!" shouted the blonde.

"If you keep yelling, _he'll_ know you're here," Molly shouted back.

Serena squeaked at the thought and ducked behind a car just in case.

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Stopping in front of the door, Molly repeated the order back in her head before entering the arcade.

"How does that girl not have a cavity in every teeth from that much sugar?" she grumbled to herself.

Looking towards Andrew, she saw him shaking his head 'no' at Darien. The dark haired man was on the edge of his seat pleading something from the bartender.

"Hey, Molly," said Andrew, as she neared the counter.

"Oh, no you don't," said Darien, glaring at him. "We're not done here—"

"Don't mind Darien," said Andrew to Molly. "What can I get for you?"

"Don't play like this with me, Drew. Just tell me one dream—"

Andrew glared at his friend. "I dream of the day when I can have normal friends who do normal things like go on dates—"

"You want to date Darien?" asked Molly, eyes wide in surprise.

"Not my type," grumbled Darien. He sat in his usual seat, nursing a cup of what she assumed was coffee. Molly fought a blush thinking about her friend and Darien's last encounter.

"Maybe if he took me to a petting zoo," said the bartender, thinking about the idea. Glancing at the strange looks Molly and Darien gave him, he shook his head. "I mean no. Of course not. I just meant that—never mind, forget it," he said rolling his eyes. "Did you want to order something?"

Looking back up at Andrew, she gave him a smile. "A milkshake, please. Double chocolate, extra cream, fudge shake. With a hint of hazelnut."

"Wow, tall order," said Andrew, raising both eyebrows in surprise. "The only person who usually orders that is—"

"_Serena_," finished Darien. He turned to look at Molly, stunned.

She fought the need to back away. "Um, well," she said, shrugging, "thought I'd give it a try—"

"You're her friend, right? Molly." She gave a quick nod of her head, then regretted the decision instantaneously. "Are you ordering it for Serena?" asked Darien, narrowing his eyes. "Is she not coming _in_ here anymore?"

"Uh…" She turned to Andrew for help, but he just looked from her to Darien.

"Is she avoiding me?" He got up and stood in front of Molly. "Because I really need to talk to her! We—I mean she and I—we need to—"

"I-I'm just here for her milkshake—my milkshake," she gasped at the mistake. "I meant _my _milkshake. Really! It's for me. All mine."

"Where is she?" asked Darien, gripping her arms. "Are you giving it to her now? She has to get it while it's still cold—oh! Is she outside—"

"I can order a milkshake," pleaded Molly. "I can just order one for me—"

"She is, isn't she? Outside! She's right out—"

Letting go of the red head, Darien ran out of the arcade.

"Wait, no!" Molly turned to run after him.

"Forget it, Molly," said Andrew, sighing. Racing after the red head, he pulled her back. "Let him go. It'll be good if they talk." He walked her back to the counter and poured both of them a cup of hot cocoa. "We can't keep playing middlemen forever."

"You've got that right," she said, sighing. "But she's going to kill me."

"At least you'll die after me," he said, shrugging. She gave him a weird look. He shrugged again. "She told me not to tell Darien anything and I may have told him something."

"Something?"

"Alright, everything," he grumbled.

Molly nodded and looked down at her cocoa. Raising her glass, she held it out for Andrew. "To our deaths."

He stared for a second then clinked his glass with hers.

"Good thing I finished all of the _Princess Diaries_ last week," he said dryly.

* * *

What do you all think?

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review, please!


	7. Chapter 7

*Avoids the tomatoes being thrown.*

Sorry!

*Dodges rotten cabbage heads.*

Really, I'm horrible sorry! Please forgive me!

*Now pineapples.*

Why would you throw pineapples—ouch! Ouch, ouch! I didn't even think they were in season yet!

Okay, really, really sorry for the horrendously long update. I'll try to be better.

That being said, this story is almost done. Get in your reviews while you can! :D

* * *

"Come on, Molly!" whispered Serena to herself.

She was hiding behind a few parked cars in front of the Crown Arcade. As the red head walked in fulfill the milkshake quest, Serena had been peeking over the cars trying to spot her friend returning with the acquired loot.

After a few people asked what she was doing—and whether proper authorities needed to be found to report the crazy girl—the blonde had forfeited trying to watch her friend come out and instead sat patiently.

"Come on _faster_, Molly!" she urged.

Alright, perhaps not that patiently.

It had been a rough day for her. A sleepless night didn't help her mind relax after...well, just _after_.

What did it mean? Was she just another name on his list? Did he feel how she felt? He couldn't have! It had been like time stopped and moved too fast all at once. She had felt his fingers pull her hair out of the buns while his mouth slowly moved against her own—but then she was playing catch up trying to remember when he undid the buttons on her shirt. And when they were on the couch...

She shivered remembering the sensations. How he finally got her to open her mouth and taught her how to play. Then his lips trailed down her neck sucking and nibbling against a tender spot. Her fingers rubbed against the mark he left. She felt branded to him. Blushing, she remembered making her own mark on him.

Her fingers felt dusty. Looking at them, she saw the make up on her finger she unknowingly wiped off from her neck. Did he wear the mark she gave him proudly? Or was he also hiding it like she was?

Ever since it happened—no, ever since she accidentally said his name at the arcade that afternoon—she had been wanting to forget the encounter.

Pretend it didn't happen.

She couldn't help it. When they were on that couch...

Her breath caught and she trembled remembering.

Molly was right: it was too much too fast.

Looking back at her fingers, she saw the flaky powder trying to blend in with her skin tone. Reaching back to her neck, she wiped off the rest of it.

She didn't want to forget it happened.

No, that wasn't it.

She didn't want to forget _Darien_. The man had haunted her existence since they met. She saw him regularly—most everyday now. And while had time away from him after she left the arcade, that was no longer an option.

He had taken up residence in her mind.

First it was just dreams at night. He had taken her favorite pass time of sleeping and she should be mad. She should be enraged. But she wasn't. She loved his presence whenever she laid down to slumber.

But now it was getting worse. While she rarely believed in doing homework at home, she firmly believed in doing schoolwork at school. Especially with a teacher like Haruna harping over her throughout class. But increasingly now, her mind had been wandering to thoughts of _him_.

It began with just hoping to see him later that day to wondering what he would think of her new skirt. Soon she was thinking of new ways to accidentally bump into him just to feel his hands as he caught her. And then her mind was imagining these scenarios. She would knock into him and he would save her just before she fell. His hands grasping her waist, holding her firmly. Pulling her closer. Leaning down—

"_Hey!_"

Serena's eyes shot open. Her head turned to the speaker. It was a little boy with freckles covering his face. He was waving a hand in her face.

"Uh, sorry," she said, trying to calm her breathing. "What'd you say?"

"I thought you were asleep," he said, turning to walk back around. "I just wanted to wake you up."

"Thanks," she said sheepishly.

She looked at the ground, trying to hide her blush. More than once she'd gotten a detention for being _asleep_ in just the same way.

Today she had barely escaped detention and all she wanted to do was unwind with a milkshake.

Yes, she thought, think of the milkshake. Not Darien. _Milkshake_.

"Come on, Molly—"

"_Serena!_"

"Molly!" she screamed, jumping up. She gasped staring at the person who called her. Black hair. Dark blue eyes. "Not Molly..."

She froze, staring at him. He was only a few steps away from the arcade door. Standing on the sidewalk, staring at her. He looked tired—eyes a little darker, hair messier than usual, and clothes slightly wrinkled. She sighed knowing she didn't look much better—seems neither of them got much sleep after...just _after_...

He ran out of the arcade pretty fast—was he waiting for her? Sure they always meet up there, but did he make sure he was there at this time every single day just to spend time with her? Like she did. Did he look forward to their time together? Could he? Was this just wishful thinking? Maybe?

Serena took a deep breath, trying to get her brain to stop with the questions. It wasn't helping deal with the situation, just making her more anxious.

Licking her dry lips, she saw his eyes jump down to her mouth. His eyes narrowed on the spot, and she shivered felling his intense gaze. She saw his throat swallow. His mouth open slightly and then close. Was he trying to say something? Was his mind also as tumultuous?

Her arm rose, and she saw him capture that movement, too. His eyes caressing as she raised a hand to brush a few tendrils of hair behind her ear. And then his eyes moved back to stare at her own. She felt another shiver down her back, her toes curling in her shoes.

His dark blue eyes captured her gaze and she couldn't seem to pull away. She missed being near him. Being in his arms.

"Hi," he whispered.

His mouth moved softly, closing then opening, then closing again. As if trying to find a comfortable position. His feet shifted, but he didn't move closer.

"Hi," she whispered back.

She saw his eyes caress her face. His gaze wandering from her eyes, following up her bangs to stare at her hair buns. Her traditional hair style. She saw his eyes soften. His mouth smiled as he traced the strands of hair down to her cheeks. She felt heat warm her face as his eyes move to her lips.

His movements were small. Just his eyes capturing everything. They were slow and calculated. Like he was trying to memorize her.

She saw him move down to her neck. Stopping at the corner of her neck for a second, she saw his smile fade. His eyes turned intense again. Chest moving harder as he took in sharp breaths. She shivered knowing he could see the mark. His eyes narrowed on the spot, and then seemed to look past it. Heat warmed her insides as she knew he was remembering. Thinking back to when they...

He thinks about it, too. She sighed in relief at the thought. He also thinks back to when they kissed. Touched. Felt.

She could still feel his kisses on her neck. His lips on her skin. His hands grasping her steady as he...

Biting her lip, she tried to stop the moan from escaping. She almost yelped in pain at the pressure of her teeth, but she heard the soft sound escape her lips.

And he heard it, too.

She saw his eyes jump from her neck to stare into her own. They widened in surprise and then narrowed, as if keying on something he wanted. His face had that intense look again.

Serena shivered.

His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. She saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

She let go a stifled breath she didn't even know she was holding. Biting her lip, she stared at him. His eyes glanced once or twice at her lips but he looked back into her eyes. Waiting for an answer.

"I—" She coughed into her hand, clearing her throat. "Yes," she said softly, nodding her head.

"Clearly?" he asked. "Can you hear me clearly?"

"Yes." She nodded her head again.

"Good," he said, nodding his head, too. "Then tell me no."

He took a step forward. Then another. Well on his way to close the distance between them.

"What're you—" She backed up, gasping as she knocked into a car behind her.

"Tell me no," he repeated. "Tell me to go away."

"I—what're you..."

She felt her heart race. Palming the car behind her, she walked along side it, keeping her eyes on him. He was gaining closer, his feet taking long strides to get to her. But he was walking, not running. Trying to remain calm. While she was panicking.

"Tell me to go away and I'll leave you alone." He stopped mid step. She saw his throat swallow again. "But," he said, his words tight, "but I need to hear the words."

"D-Darien, I..."

Her hand felt the back of the car. She looked back. The street was behind her, relatively empty. Looking ahead, there were cars parked. Then the sidewalk. Then Darien.

She inched back, trying to get her legs ready.

"Don't you dare—don't run," he said. "Not before giving me an answer—"

"W-we can talk later—"

"No," he said, shaking his head. He slowly moved closer. Careful. Trying not to scare her. "We should talk now. We _need_ to talk now—"

She took a step back. "But—"

"No buts." He was getting closer. "We really need to talk."

"I..." She took deep, heavy breaths.

His hand touched the car. "About last time_—Serena!_"

She bolted.

Legs racing as she heard him call her name.

People whizzing by as she just ran. The wind pushed against her, willing her to slow down. But no. She ran.

Ran back up street she and Molly came from. They were planning on going to the park. Planning on avoiding the arcade. Planning on avoiding Darien.

Funny how plans suddenly change.

The park was this way—she could see the blurs of trees and flowers up ahead. She could make it. Spend the day at the park and and not have to think about—

She gasped feeling the solid arm. It wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a familiar chest. His other arm came up to her chest, holding her back straight against his front. Her toes scratched the ground, trying to get their footing as he dragged her up his body.

Burying her face against the side of his neck, she groaned. "Again?"

He clutched her tighter against him. His head leaned down to her ear as he chuckled. "Yeah," he said smiling. "_Deja vu_, alright."

They were in this position just recently. Both couldn't help but remember the events that occurred last time he caught her.

"Get off—get off—_get off!_" She struggled against his hold, her arms pushing backwards while her legs kicked ahead.

"Hold still—ow! Meatball Head, quit it!"

"I don't want to do this," she cried, head butting him backwards. "Just get off!"

"Do this? What do you mean? Do _what?_" he asked. He held her tight, squeezing her back against him, holding her arms steady so she couldn't elbow him anymore. "Be with me? Is that what you're saying?" He sighed as he asked the question. "You don't want to be with me?"

She stopped struggling. "I..." Her body shivered as she leaned back against his hold. "I don't know..."

"You don't know if you want to be with me or not?" He felt his heart race asking the question. Could he have a chance with her? Could he convince her to give him a chance?

He felt her forehead rub gently against him. Her shoulders shrugged in his hold. "I don't know what I want..."

She was probably still spooked, he thought. He needed to calm her down first.

"Yeah, I can get that." He rubbed her arms as he talked, his thumbs making small circles. "This is all new."

Nodding her head in agreement, she relaxed more against his hold. This was so new for her; Darien at least had past relationships to draw from.

"So maybe we should talk?"

"—now? Right now?"

He pulled her back and leaned forward. The hug was warm.

"No time like the present," he said gruffly. The sooner the better for him. In his mind's eye, the sooner they talked, they sooner they could be together. "Please," he added.

Serena held her breath, mulling over the request. He was right: they did need to talk. She couldn't handle this—she could barely handle how she felt for him before this happened. But to talk so soon?

Then again, it was better to talk now instead of spend days, maybe weeks, mulling over everything. More sleepless nights. More days avoiding the arcade. More days avoiding Darien...

"Not the apartment," she blurted. She couldn't handle that again. Not now. Not so soon.

Darien froze at the request. "Agreed." All he could think about was how she looked at him after last time. He'd pay his life savings not to have her stare at him like that again. "Park's just up ahead."

She paused for a moment.

It's a public place, she thought. Plenty of people to stop us if anything happens. Besides, she was planning on going to the park anyway. Just the company would be different now.

Alright, perhaps not _just_ the company.

But the park was a safe place. Good choice.

"Park," she said, nodding in agreement. "The park's good."

She felt him release her slowly. Arms moving out as her back slid down his hard body. Thick fingers grasped her waist, holding her steady in front of him. Her own fingers grasped them. She shivered at the warmth they provided. Her intention was to move them away but now just held on.

She gasped as his thumbs caressed her. Heat spread from the simple movement, her body shivering.

"_Hey!_"

Both their heads turned to the speaker. An elderly woman in a knit sweater.

"You two okay?"

Darien dropped his hands, letting Serena go. Instead of seeking distance, she stood where she was. Leaning into him slightly, giving the image of the perfect couple.

"Just fine," replied Darien.

"We're okay," said Serena, nodding her head in hello.

He turned to her, folding both hands behind his back. "Park?"

Serena inched her eyes up to his face. Past the strong torso and wide shoulders. She reached his deep blue eyes and held her ground.

Taking a deep breath, she sealed her fate.

"Yes."

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It was a short walk to the park. Following the sidewalk, they walked side by side. Their arms tight against their bodies so they wouldn't accidentally touch.

Darien walked slower than his usual pace, making sure he lagged behind enough that she could keep up. He didn't need her reminding him she was shorter than him with smaller legs.

Soon they were in the park. Swing sets and jungle gyms a few feet away with children clamoring joyfully. A pond to the left with fish and birds swimming lazily. A garden to the right with plentiful flowers and trees growing all around.

There were park benches everywhere, some with couples sitting, bodies close and comfortable. Parents reading books as children played. Friends joining for a late lunch while watching the ducks.

They both stopped seeing an empty bench. Here? Do they talk here? Public enough for sure. But private enough for a talk?

Darien turned to her. "The garden?" His eyes glanced at the colorful place of greens and a rainbow of flower colors in question.

Serena followed his eye movements and thought for a moment. She was always comfortable in the garden. It was always a place she could open up and be at peace with herself.

Turning back to him, she nodded her head in agreement.

They took the path into the garden. Vegetation surrounding them, placing them in a different time. A forgotten moment.

Roses bushes grew from all sides. Pink, white, yellow. Red. Red roses.

A nearby cherry blossom tree flowed in the wind, scattering pink flowers with its dance.

They stood a few feet away from each other. Staring at the ground at each other's feet.

"So," started Darien. "How've you been?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Okay." Stealing a glance up at him, she saw his fingers rubbing against the mark on his neck. The mark she left him.

Her fingers were rubbing her own mark on her neck.

"This is too fast," she blurted.

His eyes jumped to her own. He saw the panicked look on her face. Her hands shaking as she stared at him. Eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Meatball Head," he said softly, coming closer.

Her body jerked back, muscles stiff. He could feel the anxiety coming off of her.

Putting his hands up in reassurance, he stopped moving.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I know you're a little spooked about everything." He cringed knowing it was an understatement. Cringed knowing he put her in this position. Knowing he should've handled things better last time.

But he wasn't going to dwell on that. They'd both move on from that. They had to.

"Th—that..." She cleared her throat and moved a few strands of hair behind her ear. "That was the first time I...I ever..."

He nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah. It must've been a bit intense for you..."

"Very," she said, nodding vigorously. "I've never felt like that."

"It can be a little scary," he said with a wry smile.

"But," she looked up at him and bit her lip, "but not for you; not all that scary for you."

"It was pretty intense for me, too," he said, rubbing the back of neck. "The feeling's definitely mutual—"

"But you've done it before," she said.

He could hear the hint of anger in her voice. Jealously? He bit his lip, trying not to smile. She was already so possessive of him. And he liked it.

"Yeah," he said nodding his head. "A few times—"

"More than a few times," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Many times."

"Doesn't make this," he lifted his chin between the two of them, "any less intense."

"Maybe," she shrugged her shoulders and looked past him, "maybe you're better off with one of them. One of your—your regular girls."

His eyes narrowed. "What're you saying?"

"I...just..."

He took a step forward.

Her eyes widened as she saw the feet move. Jumping back to look at him, she saw the raw determination in his face. She shivered, but took a step back.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, taking a step forward. "Don't ever think I'll hurt you."

"I-I really don't think," she said, taking another step back, "think that y-you and I should..."

His legs moved forward. "Don't think you and I should what?"

"J-just that we shouldn't—" she let out a small gasp feeling the trunk of the tree behind her.

Looking up, she saw his face a few centimeters away from her own. He moved so quickly, closing the distance between them without even her noticing. There was a small sound as his hands held the tree trunk next to her head, caging her in. His warm breath heating her, mixing with her own short, sharp breaths.

"Just," he said, articulating the words with pristine clearness, "that we shouldn't _what?_"

"I..." she said, taking deep breaths. She swallowed twice. "Just that you and I..."

"We?" he urged.

"We..."

He grunted and let out a sharp breath. "If—if you don't want us to be together, just say the word."

She looked up at him, eyes widened.

"It's your decision," he said, staring into her eyes. "Don't feel like I'm forcing you into anything. You say _no _and I'll leave you alone; won't bring it up again and we'll—we'll be like old times. It's your choice."

"My choice," she parroted.

"Your choice, Meatball Head," he said, nodding. "If you don't want to be with me, just say the word. No questions asked. But if there's something else bothering—"

"I can't make you happy," she blurted.

His eyes widened in surprise. Her own eyes were shocked at her admission, her hand clasped against her mouth to stop more words from exiting.

"W-what?" he asked, shaken.

"I—I meant—just that..."

"Just that what?"

"I...you're..." She shut her eyes, wishing the moment to pass. Better yet, let this just be a bad dream. She didn't need this to be reality.

"Meatball Head," he said, tweaking one of her hair buns. "It's just me. Just Darien. We tell each other lots of things. Tell me," he urged, scratching her scalp playfully. "Please."

She looked up at him, biting her lips.

"Y-you're used to-to," she shrugged her shoulders, looking away. Her cheeks pinked. "To doing things with your-your girlfriends."

"Doing things?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What're you—"

"You know," she shrugged again, "_things_. Touching and...and _things_."

Darien thought for a moment. "Oh," he said, nodding in understanding. "Right. Used to doing _things_."

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head. She was sure her face was bright red. "I-I can't give you that, so it would be better if we—you and I..." she shrugged, leaving the statement unfinished.

"I see," he said softly.

"Last time," she said, biting her lips, "last time, I don't know what happened. I don't—I don't usually—not ever...so it would be better if you found someone that could—that would—"

"So you don't think you could make me happy," he said, "because you can't give me—you and I couldn't do..._things_? Am I getting that right?"

She cringed but nodded her head. "S-so you can take it back," she said, shrugging, "take back asking me anything about—about us..."

"_No._"

Surprised, she looked up at him. His eyes were narrowed. His face that intense look again. Determination.

She shook her head no. "I can't give you—"

"I'm not asking you to."

"But you're used to—"

"Not good enough," he said, leaning in.

"W-what...?" She pulled her head back as far as she could to the cherry tree.

"Not a good enough reason," he said, following her, "to not pursue this." His face a hair strand away.

"You want us to—you and I to..." She bit her lip.

"Yeah," he said softly. He let go of the tree trunk and held her hands with his own.

"But we couldn't—I mean, we wouldn't..."

"Not a problem," he said, shrugging.

"N-no," she tried shaking her head. Their noses touched at her action. "I won't change my mind later—"

"I'm not asking you to," he said calmly.

"Later you can't try to convince me to—"

"I won't," he promised.

"But you're older—you want—"

He rested his forehead against her own. She gasped at the contact. Warmth spreading through her, relaxing her twittering heart. She looked into his eyes, finding him looking into her own. Blue against blue.

"You," he said. "I want you." He pulled her hands between them. "I want us."

"But—"

"But nothing. You're the girl I want."

"But I can't give you what you want—"

"I don't want you think I want—"

"But you have in the past!" she protested, shaking her head. "And when I can't give it to you, you'll just move on. You'll—"

"Meatball Head," he said, holding her delicate face in his hands. He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, smiling as she shivered at the action. "You're the one I want. It's always been you."

"But—"

"No buts. I'm not going to leave you because you want to wait. Not nearly a good enough reason to leave you. Ever."

"Are you s-sure?"

"Very," he said. "Waiting isn't a problem for me."

"You're being very accommodating," she said, warily.

"I'm not saying yes now just to change your mind later."

"I can trust you on that? Definitely trust you?"

"Of course. Because, one," he counted, tapping her cheek, "I'm not always a jerk; I can be a nice guy." She smiled up at him, agreeing.

"Two?" she asked

"Two," he tapped her other cheek, "no means no. That's all there is to it."

"That's why you wanted me to say no."

"Exactly." He nodded his head. "A girl says no, I drop my hands and leave. No explanation necessary."

"Okay; good to know. And three?"

"And three," he whispered, rubbing both her cheeks. "Three: you're not the girl someone just has a fling with."

She drew in a shallow breath. He probably felt the racing heartbeat against her throat. "Oh?" Her fingers clutched his shirt, balling the fabric in her hands.

"Yeah." He looked into her eyes, willing her to remain eye contact. "Meatball Head, you're the kind of girl a guy marries."

He saw the surprise on her face. The panic crawling its way into her veins. "Wha—?"

"Not now," he said, chuckling. "I'm not proposing right now. I'm just saying it."

"You're saying that one day you and I will..."

"Unless you have objections, of course."

"I guess...well..." She pursed her lips, failing to hide her smile. "Impossible to run against fate."

"Wouldn't dream of trying," he said, smiling back at her.

"But—but until then," she asked, her shoulders stiff, "you're willing to—to..."

"Until then, we wait," he said. "Simple as that." His hands dropped to her shoulders, slightly massaging to relieve the tension. "Nothing to feel sorry or guilty about."

"Right," she said.

He heard her agreement but still felt the tension in her shoulders. Her face also lost the smile and she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Meatball Head," he said, rubbing her cheek again. "Really, I'm okay with this. Look at me." He tugged her chin until she looked at him again. Blue against blue. He couldn't help but smile seeing her stare at him so close.

"Serena," he said, catching the hint of her smile as he uttered her name. "Serena." He repeated it, hoping to see the smile again.

She let out a small laugh. "What? I'm right here."

"Good. I like that you're here." He bumped her nose with his own. "Now," he said, his face serious, "I want—no I need you remember this: don't ever feel guilty for asking us to wait."

"Yes, but—"

"No buts," he said. "We're not doing anything until we both feel comfortable."

"Even if—if you want..."

"I want to be with you. And I want to make sure we don't rush into anything."

She bit her lip, thinking of last time. "Yeah."

"Yeah," he said, sighing. "_That_ time, it was..."

"It was nice, but..."

"Yeah, _but_ indeed." He closed his eyes and she could see him mouth the numbers one through ten. Willing himself to calm down.

"Something wrong?"

His eyes shot open. "Yeah," he said softly. "Very wrong. I need to apologize—apologize for last time."

She looked away and shrugged. "I didn't say no."

"Maybe," he said, "but you didn't say yes either."

"I guess, but—"

"No buts. You didn't say yes, and when stopped, you felt..."

Her shoulders stiffened again.

"Exactly," said Darien. "I don't want you feeling like that again."

"So," she said, looking back up at him again, "what do we do?"

"We take it slow," he said, pulling back. "A comfortable pace for the both of us."

He stepped away from her, holding out a hand for her.

She looked at the outstretched hand. Glancing up at him, she saw his warm smile. It held promise and affection.

Grasping his hand, she moved forward, standing next to him.

"Yes," she said. Nodding her head, she smiled back up at him.

They walked out of the garden, hands clasped. Their arms brushed against one another as they walked together on the sidewalk.

"Where to?" asked Darien. They were almost out of the park.

"Maybe the arcade?" she asked

"Maybe," he said, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, "but then we'd have to talk to Andrew about everything..."

"And Molly's there, too," added Serena.

Darien shrugged his shoulders. "It's not that I don't want to tell everyone..."

"Too much excitement for one day," concluded Serena.

He looked at her and nodded his head, smiling as she completed his sentence. His thought. His life.

"I never even got my milkshake," groaned Serena.

"Right," nodded Darien. "That's what your friend Molly was in there for."

"Yeah," she said, shoulders slumping.

"Well, if you want," said Darien, warily, "we can go to my place and I could make you a drink."

She looked up at him, surprised.

"Just for a drink, I promise..."

"I guess," she said, shrugging, "it might be good to go back there—scene of the crime and stuff."

"Might help us move on," he agreed.

"Just no funny business," she said, sticking out her tongue.

"Scout's honor."

She squeezed his hand as they walked to his place.

"You know," she said, "I've always wanted to be a Scout."

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"It'll be good?" she asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

Darien was heating up milk in a saucepan, ravaging through his cupboards for the final ingredient.

His muffled voice came the cabinet his head was in. "It'll be delicious," he promised. "Just as soon as I find—_aha!_"

Pulling his head back out, he held up a large dark chocolate candy bar.

Serena yelped out of her chair, running towards him. "I've never seen one this size before!"

It was the size of her forearm. Thick and wrapped in gold foil.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "Can you open it while I stir the milk?"

Stirring the liquid, he laughed hearing the rushed sound of paper ripping. She waited no time to take the wrapper off the chocolate.

"Im'fs goodf," she said, her mouth full.

"Don't eat all of it," he laughed, chuckling.

Turning around, he saw her breaking the candy bar into pieces on the counter.

"Can I put them in now?"

"Yeah."

He made room for her, stirring the pot as she dropped in individual pieces.

Minutes later they were both seated at the kitchen table drinking cups of hot chocolate.

"This is really good," she said, sipping joyfully.

He nodded his head in agreement. "It's not a milkshake but I thought you would like it."

"I do." She nursed the sides of the cup, rubbing table nervously. "So," she began, "is this what people do?"

"People?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know," she said, shrugging, "people that are..._together_."

He smiled, feeling his cheeks heat. "Yeah. They do that. Couples."

"Couples," she repeated, smiling down at her cup. "We're a couple."

"Has a nice ring to it."

"To us?" she asked, raising her cup.

"To us." He clinked his cup with hers. Putting down his cup, he ran the rim of it with his finger time. "So..."

"Hmm?" she asked, sipping.

"Couples also talk," he said, smiling. There was an evil glint in his eye.

"Right," she said, putting down her cup. She looked at him warily. "Was there something you wanted to—"

"Well now that you bring it up," he said, leaning in closer, "I am a bit curious about something."

"Something about me?"

"Yeah."

"Do I have to answer it?"

"Well," he said, "only if you want your hot chocolate back."

"Hey!" she cried, reaching for the cup as he swiped it away from her. She groaned as he held it out of her reach.

He crooked a finger at her. She eyed her hot chocolate, currently in Darien's captivity. Sighing, she gave in and leaned forward from across the table, resting her elbows on the table to reach the distance.

"Tell me, Meatball Head," he said, a devil's smile on his face, "what exactly are these _dreams _I keep hearing about?"

* * *

What did you think?

Sorry if it's not as steamy as some of you wanted but in reality, those hard and fast relationships don't last very long. I wanted more for our favorite couple! :D

On a different note, any one else having trouble with ? It's been acting a bit funky for me as far as signing in and what-not.

Anyway, please leave a review! Nothing keeps an author typing like being pelleted with kind words and encouragement.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for the long wait, everyone! Hope you enjoy the chapter. :D

* * *

"D-dreams?" asked Serena, cheeks taking on a pink hue. "What dreams?"

Darien smirked at her and circled his finger on the rip of her mug.

"Some secret dreams I've heard about."

She made a croaking sound in her throat, and bit her lip.

Watching her squirm in her seat, he openly displayed his joy at seeing her like this. He wasn't trying to be mean; it was more that he loved teasing her. Always had. Always will.

Hopefully, he thought, she'll feel comfortable soon enough to tease me back soon. But right now, he grinned, it's my turn to play.

He chuckled under his breath. "I was hoping you'd share them. With me."

"There's not much to say," she said, shrugging. "I-it's nothing, really." Face turning red, her eyes clenched shut hoping to make the moment go away.

"You sure?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the side of her cocoa. "It's not worth sharing even for your hot chocolate?"

Staring at the cup he still held in his possession, she groaned. He was keeping it captive until he got what he wanted.

"It'll get cold," whined Serena.

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Then you might want to get started."

"You're evil." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Mmm, mmm, mmmph! Smells so good!" He waved the cup under his nose, breathing in the rich aroma. "Are you sure you don't want this anymore?"

"This is blackmail!" Looking down at her lap, she twitched her nose, not at all happy with this idea.

He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders again. "All's fair in love and war…"

Hearing the phrase, she looked up at him and blushed. Still something new to get used to.

Catching her eye, he found it hard to swallow his next sip of cocoa. A ruddy color of scarlet tinted his cheeks.

"It's fine," he said, moving the cup back to her. "If you don't want to—"

"It started a little while ago," she interjected, staring at him.

His mouth hung open, but he closed it not wanting to interrupt. He had wanted to give her an out from the explanation, but if she was willing to tell him, he wasn't going to stop her.

The cup lay in between them, his hand still touching it as he was pushing it towards her. Ignoring the cup, she instead stared at him. The blush hadn't left her cheeks, but that wasn't important right now. Heart was racing so badly, she could hear it in her ears. But not important right now. Her body shivered as if cold, but it was just nerves—shaking so fiercely, she couldn't even dream of holding her cup steady in her hands right now. But that wasn't important. Not right now.

Right now, she was going to tell Darien something. Confide in him something that she had kept a secret from him, but had told the two other people in her life she trusted implicitly. Told everyone but him something that only concerned herself and him.

So this was her big step. It was time to trust him.

Like he trusted her in the park. Her heart fluttered remembering what he told her earlier. Maybe it was just girlish thoughts, but she believed he had wanted her just for her. And wasn't going to push to get anything else than what she was willing to give.

And she wanted to give him this.

She wanted to open up to him till he knew that he was important to her. So very important. That she appreciated he wasn't going to pressure her into anything she wasn't ready for, but that didn't mean they couldn't be close without doing anything physical.

"It started a little while ago," she repeated. Looking up at him, she saw he was giving her his undivided attention. Like she was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Maybe not a _little_ while ago, I guess," she continued, shrugging. "It was when that kid dumped his milkshake on him by accident. My shirt was wet and you gave me your jacket."

Darien remembered that incident. She was wearing a white shirt when a milkshake drenched it—a wet white shirt that plastered to her body.

Looking back, he really should've expected her to have grown physically. It shouldn't have taken him by surprise so much to know she'd…developed. One minute he was teasing her about her hair and homework like usual, and the next he was staring at her in shock. Couldn't pull his eyes away.

Thankfully, Andrew coughed to get their attention. Knocking him out of his trance.

Ripping the green jacket off of him, he draped it over her shoulders and buttoned it closed. Then he clutched her arms and turned her towards the door.

Not trusting himself to speak in full sentences, especially when his tongue felt so heavy in his mouth, he uttered one word to her. "Home," he had ordered.

At the time, he wasn't sure if he was rescuing her from the disastrous event that took place, or getting her as far away from _him_ as possible. He wanted her away from everyone's leering eyes, including his own.

"I really did mean to come back and return your jacket that day," she continued. "But it was getting late already and by the time I showered and changed…" Shrugging, she sighed. "Sorry."

"Not a big deal," he said. "You shouldn't be out walking in the dark just to return it; besides, you gave it back the next day."

"I…I slept in it that night." Glancing at his eyes, which had widened in surprise, she looked back at her lap.

"What?"

"I wore other things, too!" she said, backing away against the chair. "It wasn't like I just wore it—I had my jammies and stuff. I just…it smelled like you and I wanted to hold onto that for the night."

She spared a glance at him and saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

"You were so nice to me that day—just giving me your jacket without worrying about it getting dirty. I couldn't help it; I wanted to feel close to you."

"Yeah?" His lips suddenly felt too dry and he licked them. She followed the action with her eyes.

"It was that night that I had the first dream—not a really detailed dream or anything. But it was that night that began it all."

She paused for a moment, playing with the strands of her hair. Cheeks a bright pink, as if remembering that night.

He wanted to ask her what happened in it. To make her tell him faster. Put him out of his misery.

But he waited. Let her set the pace.

"It wasn't all that cold that night. With my pajamas and blanket, I would've been fine. But the jacket…it was really warm. I would've taken off the blanket, but I didn't want my parents waking in my room in the morning and seeing it—wouldn't know how to explain it. Definitely needed the blanket on top to hide that green color."

She smirked, thinking of the green color she'd teased him about for so long. And that night, she didn't want to part from it even at the chance of getting caught with it.

"I cracked open a window to let in some cool air. There I was, lying in bed underneath the blanket wearing your jacket. The sleeves were so long, my hands didn't even come out the ends. I was completely enveloped by it. So I guess it made sense that I dreamt you held me in bed that night."

Now her breath caught and she looked up at him.

"It wasn't anything dirty—nothing crude or vulgar," she added, as if to reassure him. "You just—in the dream—held me. The jacket was warm, so it was easy to just imagine it was you wrapped around me."

"Sounds nice," he whispered.

His eyes glazed over as he watched her, his mind imagining her covered in his green jacket as she slept. All night covered in his clothing. Then him covering her all night while she slept. His arms wrapped tightly around her body in her bed.

"Yeah, it was nice," she said, nodding. "After that night, I kept dreaming of you. Every night. At first, it would be of you holding me like the first time, but then the dreams changed. Soon, it would be you catching me when I knocked into you. You did that already so often, and now I would be reliving those moments while I slept.

"I have to confess," she said with a small smile, "after I started dreaming about the events that already happened between us, I would accidentally-on-purpose knock into you."

He chuckled hearing the confession. "I, uh…" he started, scratching the back of his head, "I would accidentally-on-purpose wait around corners at the right time to have you knock into me."

She looked up at him, hearing he had done the same thing.

"I loved it when you caught me," she said, staring at him. A slight shiver went up her back. "Your fingers felt nice when you were holding me—trying to keep me from falling."

And every time he would catch her, she fell a little harder. For him.

Her hands crossed around her, fingers reaching to grip her waist where she remembered he would often touch to catch her.

"I'd sometimes hold myself while I slept, pretending it was you." She looked down at her fingers, noticing him stare there, as well. "But it's never the same." Chuckling, she spared him a glance and shrugged. "My hands are much smaller than yours."

Darien gripped the cup a little tighter, trying to gain some self-control. Trying to stop himself from hauling her out of her chair and placing him on his lap so he could hold her just like that. His hands wrapped around her waist as he brought their bodies closer together.

"Yeah, yours are just a little smaller," he said, smiling. Extending his fingers, he saw them tingle at just the thought of doing that.

"That's how it was in the beginning—pretending you were holding me at night. It was easier to dream it when I fell asleep. Easier to dream of you."

He watched her nibble her bottom lip. Waited patiently for the next admission.

His little Meatball Head was driving him nuts. The blonde hair a halo around her face and those bright, blue eyes peeking up at him every once in a while.

When he first started dating, it was just because he was asked. And he didn't have a reason to say no. A date was a date, and if it ended up anywhere, then that was fine by him. If it didn't then he'd be fine walking away.

Girls were just girls. There was no particular one. They were all the same to him. No one special.

It's not as if he disrespected any of them or broke commitments. He'd never not put in the effort to treat them nicely. But it was just nice.

He always let them control it all. Pick what to eat and where to go. What to do for any holidays or anniversaries at the appropriate times. He even let them pick who they hung out with on a normal day basis. Because he had no desire to show any of them off to Drew.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed to let his friend meet any of his girls, but more that he had no desire to keep the girl in his life longer than when she would suggest they see other people.

He made no promises to hold them longer in his life. Gave no promises of commitment. No desire to stay with them because he couldn't bear to be away.

And that's ultimately why the girls would call it quits. Some would say their relationship wasn't going anywhere, which he couldn't deny. Nor wanted to. Others would say he was too available. That they wanted him to chase them a little. To which he responded there was nothing to chase—they had asked him out. And a few would hit home, saying they weren't important to him. That while he cared about them enough, they were never special in his eyes. Just ordinary.

He had lived his life like that for quite some time. Until he met her.

Met the girl that wasn't interested in flashing a smile and whisking him away on a date. Didn't think he was far too handsome not to have a piece. Instead, she fought with him. Daily.

And she didn't hold back on her opinions of him. While most people would've been offended, he would laugh because honestly, she was just retaliating for something he'd done previously. Because he would egg her on. He would add friction in their relationship because he was having fun.

For the first time since he could remember, he was truly enjoying himself with a girl. He wasn't just taking her to the movies because she'd decided they should see the new film in the theater. No, he was pulling at her hair buns because he knew it would cause her to shriek. While it wasn't the nicest thing to do to a girl, he was actually proposing activities—albeit non-romantic ones—to get closer to a girl.

For the first time, he felt a desire to spend time with someone. And he liked it.

He wasn't sure when he'd decided he wanted to keep her. Be with her and make her his. And he didn't just want a few dates for the thrill of dating until they called it quits. He wanted to come home to her every night and complain about his day. Wanted to surprise her with flowers for no other reason than just because they would make her smile.

Of course, he had gone about it all wrong. The only reaction he could get out of her was her screaming at him. He honestly didn't have practice on getting a girl to notice him what with them all approaching him out of their own accord before. So he continued with what had worked—he annoyed her until she was pulling out her own hair. Until she was pulling out his hair. And he loved every minute of it.

Within those life-threatening moments, he was able to portray himself in a positive light. Usually by accident. Like catch her from falling. First it was just instinctual—arms shooting out to stop someone from dropping to the ground.

Then, when he held her that first time, he felt something at his fingertips that made him want to do it again. Catch her again so he'd have an excuse to touch her. To feel her stare up at him in surprise, a smile forming on her face as someone—as he—held her. Rescued her, even.

That first time he was caught by surprise and his brain didn't comprehend that he was supposed to let go. It happened so fast that he hadn't even registered he told his brain to move. His arms just shot out and caught the blonde bundle and he was staring into her surprised blue eyes. She wasn't the only one caught by surprise.

She was breathing deeply, restless from the fear of falling to the ground, and then when she was expecting the ground—she was looking at him instead. Darien had hoped he was an acceptable alternative. Tolerable. Preferable, if he was feeling hopeful.

That was the first time he caught her. The first time he held her for so long, and when he looked back at that moment, he wanted to do it again. He wanted to feel her in his hands, and this time be able to enjoy it while it was happening instead of late at night when the moment finally registered. When his brain finally caught up to what he had done. Of who he had touched.

Like he had confessed to her, Darien would linger around building corners more often as he heard her about to rush by him. He'd wait till the opportune moment and step out to have her knock into him. Usually she would be running just hard enough that she couldn't stop herself from falling into him—thus he would be forced to catch her. Grasp her waist and hold it against himself, letting her catch her balance. For her own safety, of course.

Once, he accidently-on-purpose forgot he was just supposed to hold her, and not let his thumbs rub small circles against her. Not let his fingers stroke her skin through her shirt. Not let one of his hands climbing upwards to rub her back and pull her even closer. Not bend down slightly to burrow his head in her hair and inhale her sweet scent.

Sometimes she'd be running by so hard, she'd knock them both to the ground. At first, these times would scare him. Scared he had hurt her, and possibly himself, for a bit of a guilty pleasure. His brain imagined skinned knees and elbows, blood smeared on the ground, her whimpering in pain. Pain he had caused her. But that wasn't what he found.

The first time, he was thankful he had landed on the ground with her on top of him just by sheer luck. He had made sure that continued to happen every other time by pulling her onto him. And when they both landed in a heap of tangled limbs, he thought he felt her relax in his arms. Just for a moment.

At first, it he thought it was just wishful thinking on his part. Meatball Head feel comfortable with him holding her? That'd be the day!

But as the fall happened the second time, he expected her to be livid—had practiced an apology for when his guilty pleasure would get out of hand. Instead, he felt her hand run down his chest. At first, he thought she was just gaining leverage to push on his chest and pull herself back up again. But then her hand caressed back up and clutched the front of his jacket, as if to pull him tighter towards her.

She must've been lost in thought for during one of those times, because he was sure he heard her muffle something against his chest.

"_Wow_."

That's what she had said as she ran her hand down his chest. And back up again.

He hadn't felt too guilty for them accidently falling to the ground after that second time. Not when his chest tingled with her touch for the rest of that day. In fact, he was sure he felt her push a little bit harder once in a while to make them fall to the ground. So he would hold her entire body to him as she lay flushed against him.

Here he was planning—plotting—ways to make her fall into him so he could hold her, and she had been dreaming about it every night.

"So you dreamt about me holding you," he said, tasting the words on his tongue. They had a sweet taste with a hint of innocence patiently waiting for passion.

Darien couldn't hide a smile at the thought. Little Meatball Head dreaming of him holding her while she lay curled up in bed. In his jacket.

"Yeah," she nodded, blushing. She peeked up at him and he could see her throat move as she swallowed. "At first."

The smile dropped off his face and his mouth suddenly felt dry. He wasn't sure what to make of what she just said. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he waited for her to continue.

"It turned from you just holding me to you…"

Her mouth hung open as she stared at him. The pink on her cheeks spread to the rest of her face.

Emitting an embarrassed moan, she covered her mouth. Shutting her eyes, she buried her face in both her hands.

Darien saw her ears turn red and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Moving her fingers slightly, she peeked through them to see the raven haired man laughing.

"Not funny," she groaned.

He scratched the back of his head and ruffled his hair. Sighing, he leaned in closer at the table and gave her a small smile.

"It's just me," he coaxed. "No one else here but me to hear any of this."

Serena thought about that and moved her hands to rest on the table. "I kinda already told Molly and—"

"Andrew," filled in Darien, scowling slightly.

"You're mad I told him?"

"Not mad," he said, pulling at the back of his hair. "Just…I guess a little upset. Jealous."

Serena blinked at the statement.

"You're…jealous?"

Darien shrugged and let out a sharp breath in response.

"I just…I guess I didn't expect _you_ to be jealous about…well, anything."

He raised an eyebrow at her, unsure how he felt about her reaction to the news that he felt jealous. Why wouldn't he feel jealous?

"You told my best friend—instead of me—your dreams," he grumbled. "I think I have the right to feel _something_, even if it's not jealousy."

Thinking over his words, Serena felt warm inside. A small smile took over her face.

"What?" he grumbled. "Why are you enjoying this?"

"I," she said, "didn't realize I was someone to get jealous over."

He blinked at her words. Registering her response, he felt his cheeks warm in a tell-tale blush. Trying to remember when he ever felt jealous over a girl before, his brain turned up empty.

She was the first.

First girl he thought about when she wasn't around. First girl he wanted to get attention from, even if it meant torturing her. And the first girl he felt jealous over his best friend for.

"You're important to me," he said plainly.

It was an admission to both her and himself. He felt the words many times over, but hadn't told himself directly the simple truth.

"And," he continued, "I got jealous you shared these things with other guys—with Andrew—when I only wanted you to share them with me."

"Oh…" She stared at him, surprised by the straightforward truth.

He stared at her, not at all embarrassed by his confession. Not finding a single reason to hide his true feelings.

"I dreamt I kissed you."

Eyes widening in surprise, Darien stared at her. His mouth dropped open. Then several times made to close but never fully did so, as if his brain was wondering with what to respond to the confession.

"When you were holding me," she continued.

Darien saw her take a deep breath, as if readying herself for long speech.

"First you were just holding me, but then you kissed my head. Like Andrew would do if I was sad or something."

The blonde looked up to see his eyes narrow a pinch at the mention that Andrew had kissed her before. Even though it was a sweet, innocent kiss on her head, he still seemed to be miffed at the idea.

"Your kisses are different," she said. "Andrew kisses like a friend. You…" Staring at him, she swallowed once before continuing. "You don't kiss like a friend. It feels different with you."

She saw his eyes relax, to which she was grateful. And then she saw them narrow in a different way, and a slight flicker in his eyes showed he was a little appreciative of her explanation. Serena stared at the cups, not finding the courage to look at him the entire time as she continued.

"But it was just on the head," she said. "In my dreams, I mean. Well, it was first just on the head. But then…then you'd move down to my temples and then my cheeks."

Darien saw her blush and while she seemed to be a little embarrassed, there was a slight smile on her lips that showed she was enjoying remembering the dreams. Enjoying remembering dreaming about _him_.

"In a few weeks," she said, glancing at him for a moment before looking back down at the cups with a blush, "you would kiss my neck. And travel down…"

He watched as her fingers traced from her earlobe, sliding gracefully downwards. Her thumb caressed her lean neck, index rubbing in circles, before ending at her collarbone.

Raising her head slightly, she slowly raked the back of her nails upwards to her chin, and then sliding back down. Her stomach sucked in with delight at the movement, causing her hand to falter for a moment before continuing.

Darien swallowed watching the movement, his lips suddenly dry. His tongue ran over his lips as her fingers ended gracefully at the collar of her shirt.

"Your hands would hold me really tight against my waist—like you did when we would bump into each other. It made me feel like I was the most thing to you. Like you didn't want to let go."

The raven haired man exhaled a harsh breath at the thought. He wondered for how long she really was the most important thing to him. Like he really did want to hold tight to her and not let go.

"Remember that time," she said, "when you grabbed my waist a little when you were holding me? Then you were rubbing my back?"

He gave a sharp nod once and didn't dare say anything to interrupt her.

"I dreamt you did that while I was…" Biting her lip, she smiled at him like she was about to confess something bad. Bad and a little too enjoyable. "I remember how you—your chest—felt. From when I would fall on you. I wanted to touch it again."

A sharp intake of breath was all Darien gave as a response.

"It was really warm that time. I would dream I could feel your muscles again. They weren't scary big—and I didn't want to change them in my dreams. I just changed that they were in front of me again. And you would let me touch them."

He wanted to admit that he was perfectly fine with her touching him again, but froze at her next confession.

"And then," she said, eyes closing. Her voice sounded more husky.

Darien watched as her face gentled until there was only a small hint of a smile—the kind men drove to the ends of the Earth for. He gripped his thighs, anxiously waiting for her to continue.

"A few weeks after that—almost two months—you kissed me for real. Kissed my lips."

Serena raised her fingers to her lips, gently caressing them as if remembering a particular dream. Her smile deepened and she let out a soft sigh.

He licked his lips again at the admission. Remembered how her lips felt on him. How they moved as he plundered through them. The taste of them as she moaned for him.

The blonde's eyes shot open as if seeing his thoughts in her own mind. Her hands dropped from her mouth to hug herself.

"We didn't kiss like—like _that—_not like we _really_ kissed that time." She looked at him before dropping her gaze to the cups on the table. "In my dreams, I mean. We never kissed like _that._ You were really gentle."

Darien stilled at her confession, suddenly feeling the need to apologize.

"And it was just a little peck usually," she said, blushing. "You would kinda just rub my lips a little with yours and then…then pull away. It sounds weird, I guess, but it felt really nice..."

She scratched the back of her neck, suddenly feeling immature about her confessions. They seemed so juvenile compared to what Darien might've—_definitely_ had—experienced before.

"I know it was just a stupid dream," she said, shrugging, "but I liked how gentle the kisses were."

"It's not a stupid dream," he said.

"And maybe kisses aren't actually like that," she continued. "I mean, I don't know—I've never been kissed before. Well, I mean, before you. So maybe I have no idea what I'm talking about—about any of it, really."

"Your first kiss," he groaned. Suddenly, he felt so much worse.

"This was stupid," she said, hands shaking. Suddenly, she felt very anxious to leave. And burry herself in a deep hole. "It's ridiculous to tell you all my weird dreams about some—"

"It's not ridiculous. It was perfectly fine to tell me—"

"—some weird girly fantasy—"

"—I want you to tell me stuff. These things. _Any_ things, really—"

"—probably just gonna laugh about it later—"

"I'm not gonna laugh about it ever! I like knowing what you're thinking—"

"Dumb, stupid Meatball Head dreaming some dumb, stupid—"

*_Thump!_*

Slamming his hand on the table, he cried, "Enough!"

She stopped talking and stared up at him.

"Enough," he whispered gently.

She sat frozen in front of him. Afraid to move or talk.

"It's okay," he said. "It was a good thing you told me."

He smiled at her, willing her body to relax. Trying to convince her it was not bad to have opened herself up so much that she felt so vulnerable right now.

Seeing her unresponsive face, he nodded once and sighed.

There as a screech as he pushed back in his chair and got up. He held her gaze the entire way, finally breaking contact as he moved back to the stove.

Distance, he reason, might be best right now. Giving her space would help ease her mind and get rid of the wall she just put up between us.

He turned on the stove coil that had the pot of hot chocolate. Next, he walked over to the fridge to get the milk.

"I think," he continued, pouring the milk then returning it back to the fridge, "you're worried you're not sexual enough. For me, I mean." He dug around in the cupboards for another chocolate bar. "Afraid these—these weird girly fantasies as you called them sound—I don't know, immature? Naive? Juvenile?"

Turning to stare at her, he saw her glare in his direction. He smirked realizing he had enough words to describe how they sounded.

While he didn't feel they were so, he had a feeling she did. Especially when he saw her fingers still shaking slightly even as she tried to appear tough with the glare.

"You're wrong, Meatball Head," he said. "I don't think your dreams are childish. I'd say your dreams are more along the lines of…" Staring at her, he willed her to look only at him. To forget anything else in the room existed. "…_hot_."

He saw her chest move at the sudden take of a sharp breath. Smiling at her reaction, he started breaking the candy bar into pieces. Dumping most of the chocolate in the pot, he held a piece in his hand and walked towards her.

"And," he said, reaching her and bending down, "I'm very, _very _grateful that…" Moving the piece of chocolate towards her lips, she opened her mouth on an impulse, still staring up at him. "…that I get play the lead role in these _dreams_ of yours."

His eyes twinkled as he finished the thought.

She took another deep breath. Lips suddenly feeling dry, her tongue darted out to lick them—

Gasping slightly as she felt—tasted—his fingers. The fingers near her mouth holding the piece of chocolate. A ruddy pink coated her cheeks.

"Here," he said, smirking down at her.

He nudged the chocolate closer, allowing her to take it in her mouth. Not bothering to bite the piece, she let it rest on her tongue as she watched him.

His fingers had a slight coating of melted chocolate. And a small shiny spot where she had accidently felt—tasted—his fingers. She felt her stomach tighten as he licked the chocolate off, and made sure to include the spot she had licked him.

As the chocolate melted in her mouth, she felt the taste erupting in her mouth was the same as what he experienced. Chocolate and each other. The thought made her shudder.

"You don't have to worry," he said, staring at her as he moved to stir the pot, "about being anyone other than yourself with me. I know you think I mind that you're…young. Inexperienced, whatever." He waved the thought away as if it was no big deal. "I waited a long time for you. I don't mind waiting."

Darien saw her mouth open slightly, as if deciding to protest something he thought they had cleared up already. That he was fine with the slow pace they were setting and it didn't matter one bit that she didn't want to do anything physical until they were married. Until she was his wife.

He inhaled a deep breath at the thought.

He had never thought about marriage with any of the other girls he dated, but suddenly the idea was very appealing. Making her his wife definitely sounded like a good idea to him. And finally celebrating that moment with her by…

"I want to wait," he said.

"If—if you're just saying that because I want to—"

"Nah," he said, smiling wider. He shook his head at her and leaned back against the counter, still stirring the pot with the spoon. "I wanna wait because it'll be great. I did this whole thing backwards."

He thought back to all the stupid ways he'd been trying to get her attention. Trying to get her to trip on him so he could catch her. Calling her names. Holding her milkshake just out of her reach, making her jump for them. Making fun of her hair.

If anything, he thought, I was the one being immature about it all. Pulling her hair like some kid in the playground…

Shaking her head, he sighed and looked back at her.

"I was an idiot," he said, wincing. "Shouldn't have been basically torturing you just so you'd pay attention to me."

Serena shrugged at his comment.

"I didn't mind it," she said. "Well, not all of it. Some of it I minded—like when you added mayonnaise to my milkshakes. And chocolate syrup in my hair. Or— "

"Or when I poured cold ice cream down your back?"

"Yeah," she growled. "That I minded."

Darien covered his mouth, trying to hide back his amusement. He hoped one day they could look back on those moments and laugh.

And it's not like she didn't give back as good as she got. Such as when he was digging into a slice of apple pie and while he had been expecting Vanilla ice cream on top, it was instead a scoop of soap lather.

"I was an idiot," he said, shrugging. He wanted to add that it happens to men in love.

"It's okay, I guess," she said, shrugging. "I was mean to you, too. Maybe it just cancels out—"

"No, it's not that," he said, shaking his head.

Digging his hand in his hair, he pulled at the strands and took a few deep breaths.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked.

He watched her fingers move a lock of hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes searched his own, wanting to offer any assistance they could.

"Forgive me?" he finally asked.

"W-what?" Widening in surprise at the inquiry, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to pardon him for.

Staring at her for a moment, he bit his lip wondering how to proceed. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his eyes away from her and turned off the stove. Taking the pot of newly made hot chocolate with him, he walked back to the table and re-filled their cups. The cold left over hot chocolate warmed up as it mixed with the new batch.

Pushing her mug towards her, he walked away to put the pot back on the stove.

He hadn't looked back at her while performing these actions, busy gathering his thoughts.

Nodding to himself, he stepped back towards the table and resumed sitting in his chair.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back at her.

"I don't know—don't think, rather—that you've ever been in a relationship—or have dated or anything."

He paused for a moment, waiting for her to comment. To agree or deny the claim.

"I haven't," she said, a slight blush on her cheeks. She reached for her hot chocolate. "A few boys asked me, but I didn't really want to be with them."

Darien blinked hearing that. That she'd actually been asked out. And declined those dates.

"But you want to be with me?" he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

She blushed a little harder. The fingers gripping her mug clenched it a little tighter. He watched her chest expand as she took a deep breath.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I want to be with you."

Hearing her confession, he couldn't stop the smile that broke out in his face. He very well knew she wanted to be with him, but hearing that she'd been asked out—like he had—and didn't want to say 'yes' to anyone that had asked—same as him—because she wanted him instead was…it was a new found joy to him.

But that brought back the topic at hand. That she had never been with anyone else. And didn't know what usually—what was _supposed_ to happen.

"The thing is," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I kinda basically jumped you."

She raised her eyebrows in question.

"The kind of kissing we did—well, that I did on you…"

He watched her blush. Saw her throat swallow a sip of hot chocolate with difficulty.

"That kind of kissing is fine, but not… not for the first time."

She nodded her head, thinking she understood. "No taking off clothes the first time," she said, putting her mug on the table.

"No, not that—well, _yes_, that's true. Clothes stay on the first time. But also the type of kissing we did…"

Serena took another sip of her hot chocolate, waiting for him to continue. He rubbed the back of his neck. She watched as his hand moved up into his hair and pulled at it.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Something definitely went wrong."

Putting his hands on the table, he leaned in closer. Watching the movement, Serena did the same.

"Your dreams weren't wrong, okay? They're not some silly-girly-whatever you called them. It's supposed to be gentle the first time. I'm not just supposed to jump you."

Considering his words, she just blinked at him.

"Oh…"

"I'm just supposed to peck you the first time. Just a little kiss. Probably work myself up to your lips—start on the cheek first or something. I'm not supposed to just push you against a wall and…"

"I…" Serena wasn't sure how to process this new information.

"So I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I was an idiot. Complete idiot."

The blonde stared at him pull at his hair again.

"That's what you want me to forgive you for?" she asked.

He stopped his movements and looked at her.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Please…"

Biting her lip, she mentally reviewed what had transpired so far. Yes, he kissed her. One of those push-against-the-wall kisses reserved for later it seemed. Definitely not the gentle ones she was supposed to get.

But then again, if he hadn't done that, she might not be sitting here. Might not be talking with him as a couple.

So she ultimately wasn't too upset over that kiss, seeing what it resulted in for the both of them. Never the less, she felt robbed for not getting to experience kissing the proper way.

"Will you kiss me like you were supposed to?" she asked. "The gentle ones like in my dreams?"

Smiling at the question in hopes that she was considering accepting his apology, he nodded his head. "Yeah," he said, "if you'll let me."

"Then okay," she said. Rubbing circles on the rim of her mug, she looked at him and smiled.

"That's it?" he asked, surprised. "We're good now?"

"I like being with you," she said, shrugging. "And if that's how we got together, then okay."

Darien felt like he was suddenly offered a far too precious a gift, especially after being such a cad. She trusted him. Implicitly. And he was nowhere near the man that merited such a treasure. But he vowed to become the man that deserved it. Deserved her.

"No jumping you again," he voiced out loud. "And waiting to do anything—work myself up to the kisses in your dreams."

Serena shivered hearing the statement. Was especially grateful Darien had mentioned not kissing her right then and there. Wanted to work up to just the gentle kisses. Start small, like on the cheek as he had mentioned.

"How'd I ever get so lucky?" he said, chuckling at the notion. Picking up his mug, he took a hearty sip of hot chocolate. "Having you dream about me. Thinking of me all night when you're sleeping."

"And sometimes not sleeping," she said, joining in with the laughter.

His mug paused mid-way to his mouth. Raising an eyebrow at her, he watched her blush again.

"Well, it started off with just dreaming about you at night," she explained, putting down her mug. "But then with plotting ways of running into you, I started thinking about you during the day. In school."

"What do you mean thinking about me?"

"Like, you know," she said, shrugging, "day dreaming."

He blinked at her admission.

"It wasn't all that bad at first," she said. "Just ways to run into you and where to jump out from. But then…well, I was wondering how you would catch me. Whether you would just hold my waist or if one of your hands would rub my back again."

Looking up at him, she saw him smile. Clearly enjoying as she continued with her secret dreams.

"Soon it wouldn't really be about running into you—the plotting stopped. Instead I would focus thinking more about what you would do afterwards."

"Wow," he said, smirking. There was a twinkle in his eye as if he was rather proud with himself. He had, unknowingly, succeeded in making the girl he loved thinking about him all the time. Any time they weren't together, her mind was still focused on him. "That sounds…"

"Sounds like something worth getting detention over?" she asked, sipping her hot chocolate.

"What—detention?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, laughing. "Ms. Haruna was not very understanding of my mind wandering away during her lessons."

"But you were late almost every day. You're not saying you had detention all those times?"

"Had a lot to think about." She shrugged, blushing. "You'd show up to the Arcade later than I would after school finished, so it's not like I was missing time with you while sitting in detention."

"I was worth detention?"

"Yup. Worth every hour I spent in that room."

Darien laughed.

"I feel horrible for getting you detention so often, though."

"It's fine," she said, shrugging. "I did my homework there, so at least I got something out of it."

"You can do your homework here," offered Darien. He stared at her with a slight smile on his face. "I mean, do it with me. Instead of detention every day."

"You're thinking I don't need my detention time anymore?" she asked, smirking. "No more day dreaming about you?"

"Well, I figured the reality might be better than the day dreams, Meatball Head," he said, leaning closer. "Besides, why waste an hour sitting in a hard desk when you could do it on a warm body?"

Serena stilled at the question.

"You're teasing me," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Like you always do, but it's different."

"Yeah," said Darien, laughing. He shrugged his shoulders. "I still like to tease you. We can still do that even if we're dating now. Unless," he said, looking at her, "you don't want that. It's okay if you don't—"

"I want that," she interrupted. Picking up her cup, she took another sip. "I don't want that to stop."

"Glad to hear it." Raising his cup at her, he took a gulp of the hot chocolate.

"I don't know how to tease like that," she said, shrugging. "Not yet, anyway. But I'll learn."

"You picked up pouring honey into my pockets when I wasn't looking real quick," he said, chuckling as she smirked, "so I'm sure you'll pick up this type of banter easily enough. Oh," he added, "and my offer still stands."

"Hmm?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to remember.

"About you studying here. I mean, I'm pretty good at school work and what-not, but it'd be nice to hang with you away from everyone at the arcade."

"Does that mean," she said, putting down her cup, "we're not going to go on real dates?"

Darien put down his cup, too. Staring at her, he sighed and shrugged. "I'm not saying I don't want to go on dates. It's just that we're probably going to have to ease into that…"

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You don't want to be a couple in public with me?"

Grinding his teeth, he glared at her. Upset she would insinuate such an idea.

"I'm perfectly fine," he ground out, "being a couple with you anywhere. Don't think you're getting rid of me that easily."

"You're the one that kissed me," she said, glaring back, "so you can forget about breaking up. You're stuck with me."

"I'm only stuck with you," he snarled, "because I'm not letting you go."

Serena leaned in closer, glaring harder. "You're not letting me go because I won't let you," she said, pointing a finger at him. "You belong to me now."

"That's because," he growled, "I'm in love with you."

"Not as much as me," she said, huffing.

"You don't love me as much as I love you; I've loved you before you even knew what love was!"

"Then why won't you," she spit out, "date me?!"

"Because I'm terrified of your father!"

Serena stared at him for a moment. The glare on her face slowly receded until she was just staring at him. Biting the inside of her cheek, she considered what he said.

"You won't date me because of my Dad?"

"I've heard about your father, Meatball Head," he said. "He's going to go for his shot gun as soon as he hears me ring the doorbell."

"So that means you won't date me? I'll just be a secret girlfriend or something?"

"No, not that," he said.

Darien wasn't going to keep her a secret like he was ashamed of their relationship or anything. It was one thing to gossip to everyone he met about their relationship, but he also didn't want to keep it such a secret that no one knew because they were afraid people would find out. Like he was embarrassed to be dating her.

He was quite alright with people know she was taken. By him. That in a way, she belonged to him. And judging by her words just a moment ago, he belonged to her. Darien smiled at her being so possessive of him. Somehow he found it endearing.

"We'll just," he said, "have to ease into it. For your father. I'm not sure how he'd feel with his daughter coming home one day saying she was going on a date with someone. Someone older, at that."

"He'd shoot you," she said quite plainly.

Darien wanted to laugh at that, but instead he felt a shiver run up his spine that chilled his body. His plans for their future involved him staying alive to fulfill them.

"How about," he said, "we start off by just telling Andrew and your friend Molly."

"Tomorrow after school?" she volunteered.

"That'll work."

"And then we'll wait a while to tell my Dad?" asked Serena.

"Yeah," said Darien, nodding his head. "We'll tell him just as soon as I learn how to dodge flying bullets."

* * *

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